The Thing That Didn't Happen
by waterlilylf
Summary: It is said that when one door closes, another opens. What Wufei needs is someone to blast a Gundam-sized opening in his life after he knocks on the King of Sanque's door. Yaoi. 6 x 5 get together.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing universe and make no profit from writing about it.

Note: Many thanks to the amazing Kaeru Shisho for babysitting this one with me. Not quite a confused fantasy whirlwind, I know, but Mr. Chang is far too logical for any of that…

**The Thing that Didn't Happen:**

**Chapter 1/2:**

When he asked, he was allowed five minutes in the officers' bathroom. The guards came in with him, the two agents he'd never met before, for no reason he could think of, other than to emphasise the depths of his disgrace. Wallace, to his credit, stood awkwardly by the door, studying his highly polished shoes. The other one, the one whose name he hadn't caught, shadowed him to the row of sinks, avidly watching his every move.

Wufei splashed cold water on his face and then retied his hair, dragging it back viciously. There would be another hair tie somewhere on the white carpet in the hotel suite, the one Zechs had taken off.

He managed the whole process without looking at his reflection. Managed not to throw up as well, which was a far greater accomplishment.

'Ready, sir?' Wallace asked softly, from the corner. _Sir_. It was no more than an empty courtesy, now, although he presumably meant well.

Wufei squared his shoulders. Better to get it over with. 'Ready.'

Everyone knew, of course. Oh, not the details, but the bare facts that Chang had appeared back at Preventers HQ – under guard – in the middle of an assignment guarding the king of Sanque. Everyone knew that he'd been escorted straight to the Commander's office.

Anyone could see that he was no longer wearing his badge or his gun.

He met stares, ranging from sidelong to blatant; a range of expressions from sympathetic to purely gloating, along the walk to his office. Plenty of half-heard comments. It didn't take long to clear what he wanted out of his office. The book Trowa had lent him; he'd have time to finish it now. The framed photograph of the five of them. The cactus Sally had given him for Christmas, and a few of Duo's gag gifts.

Not much to show for almost seven years, really.

He was trying to find the best way to hold the cactus – prickly damn thing – when the door burst open.

'What. The _fuck_. Is going on?' Duo demanded, exploding around the door, and cannoning into Wallace. Heero, a step behind, grabbed his partner's arm, keeping him upright.

'Duo. Not now.' He gave Wufei a terse nod. 'Have you got everything? Come on.'

Wallace, very red, cleared his throat and saluted. 'Sir. We have direct orders from the Commander to escort Mr. Chang off the premises.'

_Mr. Chang. _

That was it, then.

'Well, the commander can take her fucking orders and shove them where..' Duo stopped suddenly, catching Heero's eye, and abruptly switched to what Trowa called his _I-outrank-you-asshole_ tone. 'I think Major Yuy and I can manage to _escort_ him, don't you?'

'Sir!' Wallace threw him another salute, looking embarrassed and relieved and profoundly grateful at the same time. Wufei thought the other guard might have protested but Duo was already shoving past him, and then the three of them were outside in the corridor.

'So help me,' Duo was muttering, 'if anyone looks fucking sideways at us, I'll shoot them.'

Nobody did. Nobody, Wufei thought, would dare. Duo was practically incandescent with fury; Heero had his mission face on, several shades more grimly murderous than usual.

He was grateful, of course, for their presence, for their support, but somehow it made everything worse, and it had been bad enough before.

Duo's silence lasted precisely until they got into Heero's car, and then he lost it. 'The _hell_ is happening, Chang? Seriously?'

'Nothing.' He wanted to be sick again. 'Nothing happened. Duo, please. I can't talk about any of it. Not now.'

Duo looked, for the space of a heartbeat or two, like he wanted to hit him, then he pulled him into a hug. 'It's OK. 'Fei, it's OK. We'll sort it out. I swear. It'll be OK. Everything will.'

So tempting to believe him, to listen to the fierce, bright determination in his best friend's voice. He couldn't really see, though, how it would be OK, however hard he tried. It all seemed like a dream now, a dream that had turned into his worst imaginable nightmare. He stayed in Duo's arms, all the same, let Duo hold him tightly, and tucked his face into Duo's shoulder. The stiff material of Duo's uniform jacket felt odd against his cheek, so different from Zechs' soft robe, from his skin.

Oh, Gods.

He pulled away just in time, wrenched the door open, and threw up on the ground of the parking garage. After, they gave him tissues and a bottle of water, and Duo held him again, the two of them curled in the back, with Heero driving and shooting concerned glances backwards.

He couldn't stop shaking.

They took him to their apartment without asking where he wanted to go. He would have preferred the sanctuary of his own home, if they'd asked, but he didn't object, just let them lead him inside and give him tea and one of Sally's more hideous crocheted blankets and a cat to curl in his lap. That was good, he had something to focus on; he could stroke the soft tabby fur and listen to the little animal's rasping purr.

'I know you don't want to talk about it,' Duo said softly. 'I get it. Whatever happened, but…'

'Nothing happened,' Wufei snapped at him, loud enough to startle the cat. She gave him an affronted look and dug her claws into his leg.

Nothing had happened. That was to be the official story. They'd all been very clear on that; Une, and the representatives from the palace, and the officials from the Sanque Civil Service and the government minister.

Nothing at all had happened, or at least nothing that he was allowed to talk about.

He took a sip of the tea Duo had made; he'd added far too much sugar and some sort of alcohol but it tasted wonderful. He focused on that, trying to find some sort of balance.

_Friday._

The last thing Zechs had said before he left.

Duo sighed, leaning against him. 'Yeah, right. Nothing happened. That's why you were dragged back from Nova at the crack of dawn and half the damn palace stormed into Une's office. One thing, OK? This thing….the thing that didn't happen, was it consensual?'

'Duo!' His head, bent over his mug, shot up at that. '_What_? How did you know?'

'I'm not stupid. _Something_ happened,' Duo pressed closer, reaching out to take Wufei's hands. 'Just so you know, the rumour mill's pretty much divided on whether you two jumped each other, or you took a shot at him.'

Oh, dear gods. He'd never thought – had imagined people would assume he'd made some sort of professional blunder. (Which he had, if you thought about it. His career was definitely over.)

'Listen, 'Fei,' Duo went on. 'If we're to assassinate the king of Sanque for hurting you, it's better we know ASAP so we can start planning. I hear he's got a fairly good security service. So. Yes or no?'

He couldn't speak, just gave one terse nod.

_Consensual. _

What an inadequate word, really, for what had happened.

'Shit,' Duo muttered, and the others both stared at him.

'You would prefer if he'd forced me?' Wufei asked.

'No! Shit, no. 'Course not. Sorry! I didn't mean anything like that, but it would kind of let you off the hook and stuff if you hadn't had any say in it. Plus we could go and kill him and that'd make me feel a hell of a lot better, and actually I'm still pretty damn tempted just to go for it for the way he's treated you…'

'Duo, stop.' Wufei begged; amazed, appalled at the fact that he suddenly wanted to laugh. 'I would very much appreciate it if you didn't kill him. It was…entirely consensual.'

'Consensual, my ass! Jesus, 'Fei! Your whole career is fucked now; you do _get_ that, right? Seven freaking years in Preventers! And for what? Some bored aristocrat who wanted to live out a fantasy about fucking his bodyguard?'

'It wasn't like that.'

'The hell it wasn't! If it _meant_ something to him, where the fuck is he now? How come _you're_ the one whose career's just gone down the tubes, who's probably facing disciplinary charges? I'm surprised Une didn't strangle you with her bare hands, honestly. You know how long she spent trying to get the palace to accept Preventers as part of his security detail? You think they'll ever let anyone else wearing the uniform get within a mile of him now? Shit, they could close down the entire organisation in Sanque.'

He hadn't thought of that. Oh no, correction, he hadn't allowed himself to think of any of it, because of course he'd known all along.

Duo rolled his eyes. 'Yeah. It's kind of important, really. I hope it was worth it, whatever didn't happen last night.'

That comment brought a host of memories leaping into his brain; the things he'd been trying so hard not to think about during that interview, all the things that had been said.

'Yes,' he said firmly. 'It was…very much worth it.'

_Zechs nods politely, the way he always does, and wishes them a good night in the usual tone of cool civility. He's always polite; good at remembering names and using them; always thanks his bodyguards at the end of their shift; thanks waiting staff and drivers and anyone who performs any small tasks for him. He does it all the way he seems to do almost everything in his life, without any hint of any real feeling._

_He looks tired, Wufei thinks, watching Zechs' shoulders slump a little as he walks into his suite, not realising anyone is looking at him. It's hardly surprising; it's been a long day. An early morning flight to Nova and then visits to the new wing at a hospital, and a veterans' home, and a foundation for children orphaned during the war, and then an interminable reception given by the Chamber of Commerce. _

_And they'd been running late the entire time, because Zechs drives his staff insane by refusing to follow their carefully planned schedules, insisting on spending extra time talking to a sick child or to a young volunteer, so now it's almost midnight and the flight to Brussels will leave in less than seven hours._

_No wonder he's exhausted. _

_Wufei's tired himself; it's not easy being on Zechs' security team. The man is ridiculously careless of his own safety, disregards precautions and protocols whenever he feels like it, which is most of the time. When he's chided for it, he just looks mildly surprised and says he's quite capable of taking care of himself (which is true, really) and spends a couple of days doing what he's told, blatantly humouring them._

_Wufei had had a couple of hours off in the afternoon, though; enough time for a swim in the hotel pool, and half an hour to lie on his bed with a book. Zechs has been on the go all day, constantly in the public eye, smiling and saying graceful things and standing to be photographed._

_When he turns to pull the door closed, his forehead is creased, and one finger is rubbing the bridge of his nose. A migraine, Wufei thinks, recognising the signs. _

_There are some small shops in the hotel lobby, he's walked past them; a boutique and a jewellers' and a patisserie. And a pharmacy. Zechs probably has his own medication but then he surely would have used it by now? Maybe he doesn't._

_His shift's officially over; it won't take long to go down to the shops. He spends a few minutes talking to Ryan, the agent who's taking over for the night shift and heads for the lift._

_The pharmacy is well stocked; they have the brand Quatre prefers. Wufei buys a packet, and some aspirin as well. When he gets out of the lift on Zechs' floor, Ryan nods. The palace bodyguards mostly ignore him, which is par for the course. They're not much liked in Sanque, Preventers. A quasi-military force in a country famed for its pacifism._

_They're not liked at all as members of Zech's security team. The monarch has always been protected by an elite palace guard, a position of high honour. No one likes these foreign interlopers muscling in, whose first loyalty is supposed to be to their commander, and ultimately the ESUN. _

_No one talks about the fact the Preventers are not really there to protect the king, but for another reason entirely, although that's highly classified to the point where it's probably not even written down anywhere.. King Milliardo – Wufei does make an occasional effort to think of him by that name - did try to blow up the planet, not so many years before. The main role of his Preventers guards is to prevent anything of the sort ever happening again._

_It takes Zechs – Milliardo - a while to answer his knock and he looks surprised and then concerned. _

'_Is something wrong, Captain?'_

'_No, your majesty.' He feels a bit of an idiot, now actually. The man is the king of an entire country; if he wanted pills, anything at all, he has plenty of people to summon. He takes a step into the room. 'I thought, perhaps you might need these?'_

_Zechs takes them, frowning, and then reaches out and closes the door. 'How did you know?'_

'_I have a friend who gets migraines, sire. He swears by these. They're some sort of herbal remedy.'_

'_I see.' He looks like he doesn't see at all, holding the box as if he's not quite sure what to do with it. Not his usual poised-for-public-viewing self. He's changed too, into what's probably the hotel bathrobe, soft-looking and snowy-white. _

'_Ah.' He says it awkwardly. 'Thank you. Won't you come in?'_

_As soon as he's said it – it was just an automatic piece of politeness Wufei guesses –he looks slightly shocked, but Wufei __**is**__ in the room at that point, and when Zechs walks towards the sitting room, he finds himself following._

_Zechs takes a bottle of mineral water from the mini bar and sits down, fiddling with the packaging of the pills, motioning Wufei to take the seat across from him._

_He'd been in the suite that morning, of course, doing security sweeps, checking the day's schedule, never really noticing the décor. It's all shades of cream and white; plush leather sofas and a carpet that's as soft as a meadow. _

_In his white robe and with his pale sweep of hair, Zechs could just fade into invisibility and Wufei wonders if he ever gets any say in where he stays, if he cares, or if all the hotel suites, all the state rooms in palaces across Europe, just blend into one another._

'_I would prefer,' the king says slowly, softly, 'if you didn't tell anyone about this.' He taps the little box on his knee._

_Wufei nods at once, any sort of avowals or promises would just look overdone, but he wonders why it has to be a secret. Not wanting to admit to physical weakness? Not wanting to be fussed over by his sister and his staff and the royal physician? Or just wanting to have a secret, maybe?_

_It's awkward, after that. They've had conversations before, but they've both been fully dressed and Zechs has never once looked so at a loss as he does now, as if he genuinely has no idea how to deal with this situation._

_He swallows two pills, though, and then turns the box over to read the packaging, hair falling forward to veil his face._

_It's shorter than he used to wear it, during the war, just long enough now to sweep past his collar. _

_It's damnably awkward. He's been well-versed in royal protocol over the past two years – almost two years; not quite - knows he can't leave until Zechs dismisses him, and Zechs has apparently forgotten his existence. According to royal protocol, one shouldn't stare at a king, and that's exactly what he's been doing. He looks away, looking the painting on the wall opposite, which is all splashes of white on a white background. _

_Antarctica, he thinks suddenly, and wonders if Zechs thinks that too. _

_Zechs has torn a strip from the little cardboard box and is methodically ripping it to shreds, raining down on his feet. It's something Quatre does when he's stressed – making paper spaghetti, Duo calls it – and without even thinking about it, Wufei leans over and takes the king's hand, taking the box away from him._

_A most definite breach of royal protocol. Zechs' eyes widen but he leaves his fingers in Wufei's grasp, warm. He's close enough that Wufei can smell the soap he used in the shower; hear his breathing, a little quicker than usual._

_After, he's never certain which of them moved first._

_The kiss is unexpected and … it's not. _

_He knows, everyone knows, that the king is gay. Wufei is too, although so far it's only ever been an abstract concept, since he's never got around to doing anything much about it. _

_He's watched his four closest friends fall in love, though. He has a very little experience of his own. He knows the signs of male attraction and they've all been there. _

_He knows that Zechs put in a formal request to Preventers for Wufei to be included on his guard detail. He often chooses Wufei for company on long flights or drives, or sometimes for walks or rides in the palace grounds. _

_They haven't become friends, exactly, over the past two years, but Zechs clearly likes his company, and Wufei's thought, maybe a little more than that. He's caught the king looking at him, sometimes, obviously not realising he was being watched._

_And now the kiss. Not much of a kiss; just an achingly soft brush of his mouth against Wufei's._

_It's all been leading up to this, really. _

_He's looking at Wufei, a little quizzically, head canted slightly to one side. _

'_Forgive me?' He's not smiling, exactly, but one corner of his mouth is definitely quirked upwards. For Zechs, that's practically a radiant beam of joy._

'_Oh. Nothing to forgive,' Wufei murmurs, squeezing the pale fingers in his. 'Will you – may I - please?'_

'_Of course.' There's a definite glint in those blue eyes now, teasing. He lifts their joined hands, turns them over, drops a kiss in the precise centre of Wufei's palm. 'Yes?'_

'_Yes!' Wufei hisses it and this time he's inarguably the one who makes the first move. Not to kiss, but to do something he's wanted to for the longest time imaginable; to slide his free hand through the pale gold silk of the king's hair, to feel it drift over his fingers. _

_Zechs leans into the touch, cat-like, eyes closed, and Wufei wonders how long it's been since anyone touched him, since he let anyone so close. He strokes, down and down, and then rests his hand lightly on the back of the king's neck, soft pale hair lying against his fingers._

_There is a small, annoying voice in his head, nagging that this is a very, very bad idea. It's easy to ignore, though, with the King of Sanque all but purring at his touch. _

_Zechs is pliant under his hand; Wufei just needs to put a tiny bit of pressure into it to make him lean forward, to bring him closer. Then someone knocks and the outer door opens._

'_Damnation!' Zechs jerks upright. Wufei has his gun out as the door opens and then he realises Zechs is laughing. _

'_I ordered room service.'_

_Of course. Gods. How stupid. He __**knows**__ that; he'd been there when one of Zechs' assistants had phoned the hotel kitchens. There are armed guards at the door; men who would give their lives for the king in an instant. Of course, there's no danger._

_Zechs pulls him back down and darts to press a quick kiss to Wufei's cheek as the outer door closes again. 'Very fast reaction, Captain Chang. I'm impressed.'_

_The look in his eye – teasing, affectionate, __**fond**__ – steals Wufei's breath, and then he's jumping to his feet as two liveried waiters wheel in a serving trolley, preceded by an older man in a chef's uniform.._

_He's way out of his depth here and well aware of it._

_He studies the carpet as the food is laid out, as the chef explains the dishes he has prepared specially, and as Zechs says graceful, polite things in return. _

_He bows his way out of the room, and it's the two of them again, with enough food for a dinner party. Then Zechs twists around in his chair. _

'_Please, stay. They always send ridiculous amounts of food. I can never eat half of it.'_

_It could, Wufei rationalises, be seen as some sort of royal command. It's not, though. Just a man inviting another man to share a meal. He takes the seat opposite Zechs and then remembers he's supposed to wait for Zechs to ask him to sit. It's protocol. It's all rather irrelevant now. _

_So far out of his depth, he can't feel the ground under his feet, can't even see land anymore. Just the blue of Zechs' eyes, watching him, as he fiddles with the cutlery before him._

_This is Zechs, then, at a loss, and Wufei knows exactly how that feels. _

_He knows Zechs a little, well enough to know his life is governed by honour and duty and the crushing weight of family expectations and the need to atone. They're alike. Zechs has to be aware of the vast gulf between them; a crowned monarch and his bodyguard. He'll be very careful not to make Wufei in any way feel pressured into doing anything. _

_Wufei will have to be the one to initiate – whatever happens. Whatever is going to happen._

_And something is, and they both know it. _

_Zechs serves them both, waving off Wufei's offer to help with a smile, and he thinks it's deliberate; a way to show that he's disregarding his rank at this precise moment in time. There's some kind of baked pasta dish with blue cheese and bacon, and chicken stew with dumplings, and pancakes filled with minced pork._

_All traditional Sanque dishes; the sort of food Zechs is supposed to like but doesn't really. _

_He lets Zechs load their plates with food, and takes a couple of mouthfuls, food he doesn't want in the least, while Zechs watches him._

_Everything's going to change, after this; so many possibilities hovering in the air around them. This is the last minute, Wufei thinks, the last time that everything is normal._

_He lays the cutlery – heavy, ornate silver - very carefully, on the table, and looks up, and stretches one hand across the table, and that's it._

'So, what exactly?' Duo's eyes, sceptical, met his. 'You're in love with him all of a sudden? You hardly know him!'

'I've worked for him for nearly two years,' Wufei said quietly.

Duo snorted. 'Don't give me that. I've filled in on a couple of shifts at the palace. You'd get more warmth out of one of those statues they have in the garden. I get that you've had a thing for him for a while but seriously, you hardly know him.'

Wufei shook his head. 'I've spent time with him.'

'Is it just the sex?' Duo asked suddenly. ''Cause I get you don't have tonnes of experience and he's hot, and I'm sure he made it good for you, but ..'

'It isn't just the sex,' Wufei told him at once. The sex had been – miraculous – at the time, but that wasn't it. He'd been attracted for so long before.

It was so many other things. Zechs' expression, in those occasional, unguarded moments when he wasn't hiding. His smile. Hikes and rides in the wooded grounds around the palace, with Zechs talking about his dreams for his country, his people. Long journeys by train or plane, with the two of them chatting about small things. Breathless moments of connection. Watching Zechs crouch down to talk to a child, or the sheer respect he shows to the older people he meets, people who may have met his parents. Intelligence and humour and passion that's kept so ruthlessly banked down.

'It's ….everything,' he said finally, and something made Duo's expression soften, just a little.

'Holy shit. Right then,' he said briskly. 'We just need to sort it out. You know, this would be so much easier if you two hadn't just jumped each other when you were on duty. You could've picked a slightly less awkward time.'

Wufei lifted an eyebrow at him. 'Oh? During a war, for example?' He regretted it the minute he'd said it. They'd got together during the war, yes, but it hadn't lasted. There'd been a spectacular break-up – a war in itself, really – after which Duo had stormed off (he'd claimed) to have sex with every man in the universe who wasn't Heero, and Heero had spent a year withdrawing further and further into himself.

Even though they'd found each other again, finally, it still wasn't really something they talked about.

Heero actually laughed, though, reaching behind Wufei to pull his partner's braid. 'He's got you there.'

'Yeah, OK,' Duo grumbled. '_What_ever.' The next thing he planned to say was cut off by a ringtone; the piece of Quatre's favourite classical music. 'Well, that took him long enough,' Duo said, taking his phone out of his pocket. 'Tro must've been distracting him. Hey, Quat. How's it going? Yeah, we've got him. OK, I think. Better, now we've poured half a bottle of brandy into him.'

He raised both eyebrows at Wufei, who shook his head. He loved Quatre, he really did, and he would call him, soon, but right now he wasn't sure if he could cope with Quat's overflowing sympathy, the overweening certainty that he could fix everything. This was really for him and Zechs to sort out – _Friday_ - and the rest of the world would just have to cope.

'No, Quat, listen, I'll get him to call you back, OK? Yeah, soon. Really soon. _Yes_, I pinky swear. 'Fei knows that, I'm sure but maybe it's a little bit extreme, right now. Yeah, totally. We'll have to see how it goes. No, it's not that he doesn't want to talk to you, honest. He's just… kind of in shock. Not talking much at all. I'm sure he'd love to see you. OK, right. We'll see you then. Tell Tro we said hi.'

He dialled off, grinning. 'They'll be here tomorrow. Quat was yelling at Rashid to have the shuttle ready when I hung up.' He gave Wufei a poke. 'I'm looking forward to you trying all that _nothing happened_ shit on him. You'll hold out two minutes, tops. And he'll want details, I'm warning you now. Been there, done that. Right.' He jumped up. 'I'll get you some more tea. Could you eat something? Something light?'

'Just some tea,' Wufei said dumbly. Damn. Now, he'd have Quatre to deal with as well. He just wanted to find a cave somewhere and hide from all of them for about three decades. He'd be ready to face the world after that. 'No more brandy, please.'

'Are you all right?' Heero asked quietly, when it was just the two of them, and the light throaty purr of the cat.

'I don't really know. I think I will be. I wish you'd all stop treating me like some fragile blossom. I'm not an idiot; I'm perfectly capable of sorting out my own life.'

Heero surprised him by laughing. 'You can't actually talk, you know. Remember Robert Brandon?'

'Who?'

Another laugh. 'Quatre dated him for a while. English politician. You and Trowa practically stalked the man for weeks; you were convinced there was something wrong with him.'

Wufei sniffed. 'And we were perfectly right. He was taking bribes from a major corporation.'

'And you don't think Quat would have found that out for himself, eventually, and dealt with it? You do realise you helped me run background checks on anyone Duo was ever with? When Trowa broke up with that vet at the circus, I remember you and Duo flew to L3 the minute you heard. I know perfectly well what you all did to get Duo and me to start talking again. Did you think we're all idiots, incapable of sorting out our own lives?'

'Not exactly,' Wufei hedged. (When it came to Duo and Heero, that was just what he did think, but it was probably wiser not to say it. Actually, the same for Quatre and Trowa; they'd been quite clearly made for each other, but it had taken them three years to work it out.) Idiots, really. 'I just….'

'Precisely,' Heero said firmly. 'And now _we_ just. This is what we _do_, 'Fei. We meddle in each others' lives and it's never going to stop. Zechs is just going to have to get used to that.'

'Oh.' It was the first time it had been said; the first assumption that he and Zechs were – something. There'd been whispers and sighs at midnight, between the two of them, and a date planned – _Friday_ – and then the palace staff tying themselves in knots to work out exactly what was going on between their king and his bodyguard. But this was another person, a friend, casually and calmly implying the two of them were a couple.

It was breath-taking and terrifying and it opened up a whole new world.

'What do you think of all this?' he asked finally.

Heero's head bent over the cat, rubbing her ears. 'He's a good man. He has done terrible things, but he is trying so hard to atone for them. That's all anyone can do.' That, for Heero, was shatteringly personal. 'The situation is…not ideal, though, is it?'

Wufei laughed at the dry understatement. Ridiculous. None of this was remotely funny. 'No. It … it wasn't meant to be like this.'

'But it's happened.' Heero, who had fallen in love during a war, lifted his head, eyes dark and direct under the untameable hair. 'What's your position, regarding Preventers?'

'Dismissal, obviously.' He would have to go and take the uniform off, sometime soon. Borrow something from his friends. 'It's not unreasonable. It could have been a lot worse. I think there was some pressure from the palace not to press disciplinary charges. They were desperate not to do anything that might give any hint of a scandal.' More of a scandal. '_Officially_, I'm being allowed to resign.' He shrugged, working his fingers through the cat's soft fur.

Seven years spent building up his career. He'd been on the fast track for promotion, Une's protégé. He'd heard his name mentioned as a possible commander, one day. It was partly why he'd accepted the post at the palace. High profile, answering only to Une herself, constantly mixing with royalty and officials.

All gone now.

'Don't you care at all?' Heero sounded genuinely curious.

'I haven't thought about it, not really. And the last two years, it's all been about him, anyway. Not Preventers. If you had to choose, would you choose your job or Duo?'

'Duo.' He said it without hesitation. 'No choice whatsoever. What does he – Zechs – say about all of this?'

'I don't know. I haven't talked to him.'

'He doesn't know about it?'

Wufei lifted his chin. 'It's my problem. I …was the one who instigated it all.'

It had been his first reaction, actually; to want to call Zechs and tell him what was going on. Just an excuse to hear Zechs' voice, really. Quite shameful. Chang Wufei was more than capable of dealing with problems of his own making.

'Bullshit!' Duo stalked into the room, slapping the tea-tray down in front of the couch. 'I bet he didn't exactly fight you off. It's as much his fault as yours.'

'Don't say it like that, like it was something wrong!' Wufei yelled suddenly. 'You weren't there, Duo; you don't know what it was like. It was something we _both_ wanted and…and stop grinning at me like a pair of village idiots, the two of you!'

'Aw, but it's so cute!' Duo ruffled his hair. 'We always knew there was passion somewhere in our little dragon. Just didn't know that it'd take the Lighting Count to bloody find it. Now, why don't you tell us what exactly it was like, 'cause I think maybe you've been holding out on us a little bit, about your feelings for him.'

Wufei took a deep breath. He was doing this, making it all real. 'I have been attracted for a long time,' he said slowly. 'At first, it was just that…he is very handsome.'

'Oh, yeah,' Duo enthused, and got his hair pulled again. Hard, if the wince was anything to go by.

'I suppose I started to know him, after a while. We spent a lot of time together. At first, I thought I was imagining it, that there was maybe something there. I don't know very much about all this. You know that. What happened last night, it was stupid, yes, but gods, something needed to happen. He is not…not someone who allows himself very much. I think Heero understands that. I'm not sure if he would ever have made the first move.' There was an odd catch in his voice, suddenly. 'I wanted, I really wanted, what happened.'

'The thing that didn't happen?' Duo was smiling slightly.

'I suppose.' He shifted on the couch, putting his mug back on the table, and trying not to wince too visibly in front of the others.

'First time's a pain in the ass, huh?' Duo's teased.

Wufei nodded; there wasn't really that much point in trying to hide at this point. 'Would you mind if I used your bathroom? And borrowed something else to wear?'

'Sure.' Duo took him upstairs; Wufei sat on their bed while he rummaged through the wardrobe.

'It gets easier,' he said, voice slightly muffled by racks of clothes. 'After the first time. There's special lube and stuff you can get, for beginners. And, you know, toys and that, for stretching. You can order them all on line. You really do need to be careful at the start or you can hurt yourself pretty bad. I can send you the links if you want.'

'Thank you.' Duo was being practical about all of this; he could be too. He wasn't the first person in the world to have sex; it was only sensible to listen to advice. If he didn't die of mortification first from Duo's Gay Sex Guide for Inexperienced Dummies lecture. 'I would appreciate that.'

'Yeah.' Duo backed out, and threw an armful of clothes on the bed. 'Honestly, it does get way better. Remember when you were learning to fly Shenlong? Hurt like damnation at first, right? And then you got used to it and it was the best thing in the freaking universe? It's like that. Oh, just for the record, don't let Quat take you anywhere near a sex shop. Seriously. You don't want to know.'

'I don't think I do, no. Duo, thank you. For everything.'

'Whatevs. You really have it bad for him, huh?'

'Very bad, actually. I want you to meet him, properly. And I'd rather you didn't shoot him on sight.'

'I won't. But, God, 'Fei, you should've seen yourself when we left Preventers. You were in serious shock. I just wanted to put a bullet through him, for making you feel like that.'

'I know.' He shuddered at the memory. 'But that wasn't because of Zechs. It was everything else. Une.'

'Yeah, I get it.' He grinned suddenly. 'You do get that your boyfriend is going to totally chew her up when he hears what's going on?'

'He's not my boyfriend. He's..' He had no idea. They hadn't had time to talk about any of that.

'Well, whatever he is, I'd bet serious money that he's the protective type. He's gonna go apeshit. Wish I could be there to see it,' he added longingly.

Wufei shook his head. 'He's not like that.' It was a nice enough little fantasy, but Zechs wasn't the sort to _go apeshit_, as Duo put it. Even when he was reprimanding people, he did it with devastating courtesy and a vague air of ennui. 'Anyway, I don't need anyone being protective. I'm quite capable of looking after myself.'

'_So_ not the point, man,' Duo argued. '_I'm_ more than capable of looking after myself, but it doesn't mean I don't love having my own steel-bending Yuy force-field to watch my back, same as he gets to have me as his personal security blanket. Seriously, 'Fei, if this is going to work with Zechs, you both need to figure out what you need, and what you're prepared to give and take. And I know damn well what I'm talking about here; it's why 'Ro and me screwed up royally the first time. You should call him, you know. It's not like he won't hear it from some flunky or whatever. Probably better if he hears it from you.'

He had thought about it. 'It's just.. I'd rather talk to him in person.' He gave Duo a shy smile. 'We have a date. On Friday. He asked me to dinner.' It felt good, to be able to say it aloud.

Duo grabbed him in a fierce hug. 'You're so freaking adorable; I hope he gets how damn lucky he is. Don't worry too much, 'Fei. Your new squeeze has his own country, right? I think he'll work things out. Listen, you go take a shower and I'll make something for us to eat, OK?'

'OK,' Wufei echoed obediently.

He waited for Duo to close the door on his way out, and then stood. Damn. It did hurt; he was going to have to invest in…mission supplies. At least he could do it on the internet, more or less anonymously. That was good.

He undressed slowly, taking off his Preventers uniform for the last time. It should have meant something, but all he could remember was Zechs undressing him the previous night, fumbling with the one jacket button that always snagged. Zechs' fingers on his belt buckle, working it loose, then slipping each shirt button undone, and his mouth, hot, on each inch of newly bared skin.

Oh, gods.

_Friday._

They'd sort it out then.


	2. Chapter 2

**The thing that didn't Happen:**

Many thanks to everyone who was kind enough to comment on chapter one.

**Chapter 2\2:**

Wufei folded each piece of clothing with care, placing them on the bed. Duo and Heero could take them back to HQ; somebody might find a use for them.

Much as he appreciated his friends' kindness, it was a relief to be alone, finally. He'd had a short time in the hotel room after Zechs had left; just enough to take a quick shower and dress, before it had all gone wrong, before two unfamiliar agents had appeared to escort him back to Sanque. At least he'd been up and dressed by then; it would have been unimaginably awful if he'd been still sprawled naked in Zechs' bed.

He sat abruptly on the edge of Duo's and Heero's bed, trying not to think about that. It hadn't happened. No point in tormenting himself. He took a deep breath, holding it, and then another. It was all right.

The worst – maybe, hopefully – was over and he was in his friends' bedroom, a room he'd helped Heero to decorate while Duo had been away on a week-long assignment. Duo's favourite things on Earth were the stars and tropical seas full of fish, so they'd painted the walls and ceilings the colour of the night sky at midnight, and then Heero had drawn the constellations in silver paint, aligned as they were on the date he and Duo had first met.

That hadn't been too difficult; fun more than anything, with the two of them slopping paint on the floor and each other and eventually escalating to a full-scale paint battle. (Duo had been so jealous he'd missed the fun that the three of them ended up painting the whole house, over the next few months, and then Wufei's apartment.)

The fish had been a bit more challenging; Wufei's suggestion of a small fish tank on Duo's dresser hadn't been nearly ambitious enough for Heero's taste. Instead, the dividing wall between the bedroom and bathroom had become a giant aquarium filled with colourful fish and plants.

It was lovely; Wufei let himself fall back on the mattress (the last time he'd done that, Zechs had followed him down). There was no point in getting stressed at this stage. What had happened, had happened. He just had to deal with it.

Friday, suddenly, seemed unbearably far away. Three days. It was probably for the best, having some time to try to come to terms with all of this. A breathing space for both of them.

That was good.

He focused carefully on watching the fish, feeling himself relax a little in an environment that was comfortable and very familiar. He'd stayed here a few times, when both of his friends were away, taking care of the cat and the fish and the plants. He liked the house; so undeniably his friends' home.

Nothing like Zechs' private rooms at the palace. He'd been inside once and it had been as impersonal as a hotel. There were books and a portrait of his parents with Relena as a small baby, but otherwise no clue whatsoever to the identity or personality of the man who lived there.

So bleak.

Wufei's own apartment, which he'd had for four years now, was most definitely _his_. Painted calligraphy scrolls and antique weapons and photographs and all of his insanely expensive kitchen accessories and three of Sally's lumpy afghans on the bed (Sanque was cold for six months of the year) and a few small, cherished mementoes of L5.

Paying the bills was going to be a problem, now that he was unemployed. He had savings but they wouldn't last for ever. It wouldn't be easy getting another job.

Another thing to worry about later.

He sat up, too abruptly. Damn. Definitely just as well he wasn't going to see Zechs 'til Friday; by then, he should be feeling better. He'd have time to buy some of the things Duo had suggested too. (Hopefully, they wouldn't cost too much). Or maybe Zechs had just meant for them to have dinner and talk?

Oh, well. Three days to sort himself out, to find a semblance of balance. Think about finding something he wanted to do. He could always go to work for WEI (Quatre would probably consider dismissal from Preventers a plus). He could maybe do some university courses; something he'd never had time to do before.

He'd manage.

Three days, then. He stood up, more slowly this time, heading for the bathroom. It was fine, really, if he avoided sudden movements and he definitely, absolutely wanted to do it again. Like learning to fly a Gundam, Duo had said.

_The best thing in the universe._

Yes, he wanted to do that again, to be with Zechs.

His friends didn't have a bathtub, but their shower was impressive; vast, with all sorts of jets and settings and strobe lighting and a sound system. Even though he'd helped Heero to install the thing, he could never remember how to use the control panel. The first button produced an assault of blaring hard rock; he turned it off and wondered what sort of music Zechs liked, if he liked any. If he even allowed himself that much.

He let himself be power-blasted by molten water, and then turned it down to a gentle trickle as he washed.

He and Zechs had taken a bath, after the first time, and it had been utterly blissful. He'd been on some sort of high at that point, floating on sheer sensation. He couldn't remember how he'd even got into the tub, so Zechs had probably carried him. Shameful, quite, he thought, feeling his mouth curve into a smile. He'd regained full consciousness fairly quickly after that, curled against Zechs' chest with the king's arms locked around his waist. In retrospect, it was quite lucky that neither of them had drowned.

He was so very _aware_ of his body, all of a sudden. The bar of soap sliding over his skin, cool tiles below his feet, the light spray of warm water. Sensations and memories of how he'd felt, with Zechs. He turned the dial to the coldest setting, and froze the sudden arousal away, as well as the ridiculous desire to cry.

He was tired, that was all. He'd be seeing Zechs in three days. Stupid to pine over his absence, like some lovelorn teenage girl. He was just tired, and that was perfectly natural, after more than twenty-four hours with only a short nap, waking up in Zechs' arms

He couldn't remember falling asleep, but it had happened at some point, in that huge bed, all crumpled linens and the sharp tang of sex. Sheer exhaustion, probably. He didn't know if Zechs had slept at all.

_Waking up is a scattered series of sensations; some pleasant, some less so. He has the softest pillow in the universe under his head. Enough room to sprawl; not the narrow futon in his bedroom, then. A deep, wholly unfamiliar ache, deep inside. (That's not pleasant.) Someone is touching his hair, tentative. Very pleasant._

_Oh._

_When he jerks his eyes open, it's still mostly dark, with just a rim of light around the bedroom door. Oh. The bedroom in Zechs' suite._

_He moves, rolling over to lie on his back. Naked; except for a sheet tangled in his legs. He should be self-conscious about that, Wufei thinks dimly, but there's not much point, now. It's all a bit surreal._

_Zechs is standing by the bed. When Wufei moves, his hand stills, and then he removes it altogether, switching on the bedside lamp, and then lets it dangle by his side. 'Good morning.' Absurdly formal, except for the small, uncertain smile. _

'_Good morning.' It's supposed to be awkward, the whole 'morning after' business. He knows that much. It's not, really. _

_He turns one hand over on the mattress, palm up. Zechs takes it, and then sits beside him. He's fully dressed; the pale grey Armani suit that he favours, and a narrow, dark blue tie. _

'_You look very smart.' It's a stupid thing to say but Zechs smiles at him anyway, and then those blue eyes sweep over him._

'_You look…well, not terribly smart.' _

_Wufei can feel himself blushing – ridiculous habit – and forces himself not to wrench the sheet up to his chin. It's not like Zechs hasn't seen everything. Seen and stroked and kissed every inch of him. There's pure approval in the king's eyes; approval and desire and an utter tenderness that, after last night, shouldn't be a surprise._

'_I think I prefer this look to the uniform.'_

_Wufei laughs, fingers curling more tightly around Zechs', as if he can keep him here, in this room. Even last night, there'd been some moments when he'd had to struggle not to think about the world beyond their bedroom door. It's all right now; just the two of them, but Zechs won't be able to stay much longer._

_He can see the gold watch on Zechs' wrist and he knows the king's schedule backwards. He'd approved it. _

'_I very much wish I could stay,' Zechs says quietly, seeing him checking the time. 'I'm sorry.'_

'_I know.' He should have left already, but there's always an extra hour or so factored into the schedule, just in case. There's still a little time. He sits up, and Zechs pulls him into his arms. Wufei tucks himself tight into the king's shoulder, and Zechs strokes one hand down his back. He doesn't want this to end, doesn't want Zechs to be wearing the suit that he'll wear when he walks away._

_Zechs' hand comes to rest lightly on his hip. 'Is it sore?'_

'_Yes.' No real point in lying about it; he knows it always hurts the first time or two. Not Zechs' fault at all; he'd been exquisitely careful. _

_Zechs kisses the top of his head. 'I want you to know…I want you to….well, rather, I don't just want…' he takes a deep breath. 'I would like to see you again. Very much. I hope you would like that also.'_

'_I would,' Wufei says immediately. It's not precisely surprising. Zechs had said things during the night that implied this wasn't to be just a fling and he's not the one night stand type anyway. This is unequivocal though._

_Oh, dear gods._

'_I'm very glad. I don't know, I mean, I get back on Friday morning. I don't know if you're free, you probably have your own plans for the evening, but I'm free. Well, I could be. If you liked.'_

_Stumbling inarticulacy has never been high on the list of qualities Wufei finds attractive. It is now, though. He can't help wondering if Zechs has ever asked anyone out before. He knows the rumours about Treize Khushrenada – everyone does – but they may be nothing more than gossip - and there's been no one since. The press variously puts this down to him searching for the one perfect person, or to his being too focused on his work._

_He also knows what Zechs' Friday schedule is like, after five days away. Not a free moment anywhere. A state banquet followed by a charity ball at which he is to be the guest of honour._

'_We could go for dinner somewhere, I thought.'_

_Wufei nods. The floodgates in his brain – rapidly constructed to hold out any and all thoughts of reality – are starting to give under the strain of all this. He's agreed to have dinner with a man who's probably the single most eligible, high-profile bachelor in the entire universe. _

_It's going to be insane. When Zechs ascended the throne, two years ago, the first openly gay monarch in Sanq, there were changes in the laws of inheritance; in the Constitution, to allow for a male consort._

_The world's media spent months salivating and speculating over every man Zechs even looked at, and Wufei is in no way prepared for any of that. Reporters going through his rubbish; they do that, he knows. Digging into his past._

_L5. Meiran. Treize._

_Oh, Gods._

'_What is it?' Zechs asks quietly. _

'_Nothing.' Wufei lifts his chin, looking at him. He's not prepared for any of it, but he's not remotely prepared to give this – this man – up either so that's that. 'I was just thinking.'_

_Zechs nods. 'I know. I'm possibly not the easiest person to …. be with, given who I am. I promise, I will try to keep you as…shielded from everything as I possibly can. It's not that I want you be a secret or anything,' he adds hastily. 'Just that it would be preferable to keep a low profile.'_

'_I know that, Zechs,' Wufei says, touched, using the name as if he's used it all his life. Well, he's used it plenty of times in the last seven hours anyway, said on sighs and whispers and one heartfelt, longing plea. Screamed it more than once._

_Zechs sighs himself and, very gently, disentangles his fingers, looking at the time. 'I'm sorry.'_

'_I could come with you, to the airport.' He could, but it's a stupid idea and he knows it as soon as the words are spoken. He doesn't have any official reason to go anywhere with Zechs. He's not scheduled to be back on duty for the next two days._

'_I would like to think of you here in this bed. If that's all right?'_

_That makes him blush again, and Zechs reaches over to touch his cheek. _

'_You're so very beautiful.'_

_He isn't, of course, he knows that, but he also knows it would sound silly to disagree. Angling for more compliments. _

'_You know, Wufei, you need to learn to accept compliments a little more gracefully,' Zechs teases. 'I suppose, I need to give you more practice. You're lovely.'_

_His voice trails off at that point, mouth occupied tracing kisses over Wufei's throat, and his flight apparently forgotten._

_There's power here, Wufei suddenly realises, power he never thought he possessed. He's flown a Gundam; he's a decorated officer in Preventers. He's used to power. Not this though. He's not in any way used to the effect his own body can have on someone. On another man. _

_It's a pure rush of adrenalin, and he arches his throat and moans and tangles one hand in Zechs' hair, tugging him in for a kiss, and then he's flat on his back with Zechs over him. The kisses aren't even co-ordinated any more, just chance collisions of lips and tongue and teeth, and they're both fumbling at Zechs' belt, at the ridiculous buttons of his trousers, and all he wants is Zechs inside him again._

_For the second time in seven hours, someone raps on the door. 'Your Majesty. We need to leave in five minutes.'_

_Zechs swears, far more fluently than Wufei had expected he could, cursing, in lurid detail, the ancestry, appearance and personal habits of whoever's outside. In the circumstances, it's understandable. _

'_Absolutely,' he agrees emphatically when Zechs pauses for breath. 'What you just said. All of it.'_

_Zechs catches his eye and laughs. 'I told you this was going to be difficult. Damn. Kings of Sanq used to be able to order people beheaded for far lesser offences.'_

'_The good old days,' Wufei says gravely._

'_Quite. I really do have to go now, before some over-zealous guards decide to burst in.' He stands up, adjusting his rather rumpled suit in the process. 'I'll see you on Friday. May I call you before then?'_

'_I'll be most offended if you don't.'_

'_God forbid,' Zechs remarks, very dry. He actually takes three steps to the door, before he abruptly swings back. 'I hate this, leaving you.'_

'_I hate you leaving me too.'_

'_Yes.' He's standing by the bed, not smiling this time. 'I have wanted this, __**you**__, for a very long time. This was not how I'd planned it to be. It was unwise.'_

_Even though 'unwise' is probably the kindest term, it still hurts. _

_Wufei swallows. 'It was indiscreet, yes.' He's only starting to realise how much. A dozen officers of the palace guard saw him enter the suite, without being summoned. They never saw him leave. And he'd been sitting in the king's presence, very close, when the waiting staff came in. As much as he wants to believe this is a secret, it's not. People know._

'_I didn't mean it like that,' Zechs says at once. 'It's not fair, leaving you when we haven't talked about any of this.'_

_He still hasn't actually left, Wufei thinks numbly. He clearly doesn't want to, and it's suddenly apparent that Wufei has the power – if he chooses – to make him stay. He could tilt his head to make his hair tumble over one shoulder; he could make his whole body into an invitation, an entreaty. He knows, now, how to do this._

_He could keep Zechs here, heedless of the entire world outside._

_He could._

_He doesn't. _

'_It's all right. You can call me, whenever you like. And we'll talk on Friday.' _

_Wherever they end up. The palace? He can't really imagine Zechs making restaurant reservations, looking up on-line recommendations. But he'll probably have an assistant do it anyway._

'_Friday, yes.' He says the word like it's a talisman. _

_And then he leaves._

He put on the clothes Duo had left out for him; jeans and a red sweater, both rather more snug than he would have chosen for himself. Maybe it was only fitting; everything else had changed, after all.

The sweater didn't hide the little mark on his throat, the way the collar of his uniform jacket had. Wufei gave himself a long look in the mirror. Outwardly, despite the clothes, he didn't look all that different. Just a small red blemish on his skin that could have been anything. (Other bruises beneath the clothes, but they were covered. A few places where Zechs had held him a little too tightly, had lost a little of his famous control).

His hair, still slightly damp from the shower, was tied back, but loosely this time, leaving a few strands framing his face.

He looked fairly normal, considering he'd wrecked his career, and was at the centre of a diplomatic storm, and had had sex (more than once) with the king of Sanque, and was probably going to be on the front page of every newspaper in the universe in the fairly near future.

He should have looked different, somehow.

He shouldn't have let Zechs go. He knew that now. He should have jumped out of bed, like someone in a romantic film, and thrown himself back into Zechs' arms, and asked him to stay, asked him to choose Chang Wufei over a conference on the rising taxation levels affecting smaller nations.

But he hadn't.

As he walked out on to the landing, the phone rang downstairs.

'Yeah, this is Maxwell. _What_? Yeah, he's here. Um, sir. You're _where_? Oh, right. I guess. Just let me check.' Duo came pounding up the stairs. ''Fei? Your boyfriend's outside! Do you want to see him?'

'_What_?' Wufei demanded, disbelieving, staring at his friend. 'Zechs? It can't be. He's in Brussels!'

'Well, unless you've got some other boyfriend, and man, I hope you don't 'cause this whole situation is fucked up enough already, yeah, it's Zechs. Will I let him in?'

'Yes!'

'Sure?'

Wufei swallowed. 'I am sure, yes.'

'OK.' He lifted the phone back to his ear. 'Yeah, he wants to see you. Two minutes.'

This was insane, all of it. Utterly insane. He watched Duo walk downstairs, heard the click of the front door, and then Duo's voice, strained and slightly higher than usual. 'Yo, Zechs. Yeah, he's waiting for you. Upstairs. Heero and I just wanted to have a little chat with you first. Like, ground rules, you know.'

Oh, Gods. They'd probably get themselves arrested for high treason or something. He couldn't hear whatever Heero was saying, but he could hear Duo making occasional, approving comments, so he was presumably issuing inventive death threats.

They'd all end up in prison at this rate, the three of them.

Then the door opened. Zechs came in, a little uncertain, very solemn, not quite meeting his eyes. 'I am so very sorry about all of this.'

'Don't. I already told Duo, it was entirely consensual.'

'Ah. I'm very glad about that. I imagine it's the only thing that kept him for shooting me, just now.'

'Something like that.' Wufei swallowed. 'You…shouldn't have rushed back. Really. You're supposed to be making a speech at the ESUN.'

'I'm supposed to be here,' Zechs said instantly, very decisive. 'After everything. God. Why didn't you call me?'

'I don't know.' He honestly hadn't thought about it as a serious option. Well, he had been tempted, for about two seconds, and then rejected it. Zechs was busy, off to make an important speech for his country's economy; he didn't need any extra pressure. Wufei was quite capable of managing his own life. 'You had other things to worry about, it didn't really seem appropriate to bother you with anything else. I would have rung you later.'

'I see.' Zechs' mouth thinned. 'We are going to sit down and have a talk about when it is appropriate for you to…. bother me. I would consider this would be one of those times.'

'Right.' It was a stupid thing to feel, but there was a little glow of warmth blossoming in his chest. Zechs was angry because he hadn't called him. Zechs was _here_, in his friends' house, in their bedroom, glaring at him. Here, not in Brussels. 'I wanted to. If that helps at all.'

'Not particularly.' The king of Sanq gave him a long, searching look from across the room. he hadn't moved from the doorway. Not just angry; he was furious, and Wufei felt it spark the same emotion within him.

'You shouldn't have come back like this.' That was it, then; there was no chance whatsoever now that they might be able to keep this…discreet, even for a short time. Everyone would know. 'I thought we agreed to try to keep this low profile.'

'And I thought there was some small measure of trust between us,' Zechs snapped back. 'Enough that you might at least consider calling me over something like this.'

'I can look after myself,' Wufei flared, and then thought about what Duo had said. It wasn't that Zechs really thought him incapable. That wasn't the point. _Give and take. _He'd just wanted to be needed.

'I'm sorry,' he said, more calmly. 'I'm not…I'm used to dealing with things alone.' That wasn't true, if he thought about it. He had his friends, and now he seemed to have a …to have someone else in his life.

The blond head inclined in a terse nod; apology apparently accepted. 'I imagine this is an exceptionally foolish question, but how are you?'

'I'm all right. Well, not really. You're here.' Once he'd said it, he couldn't stop the smile.

Zechs let out an exasperated little huff of breath. 'I called Commander Une on the way back. I informed her that unless you are reinstated, at your previous rank and with a full apology for how you've been treated, her organisation is no longer welcome to operate in Sanque, and certainly not to provide any members of my personal staff.'

'You can't _do_ that!'

'I already did.' He was looking rather smug about it too. It was common knowledge that those two didn't get on, never had. Zechs had probably loved telling her that.

Wufei couldn't imagine it. He'd watched Zechs for two years, since his coronation, watched him become the king he felt his country needed, rather than a figurehead who happened to possess the right lineage. Watched him stand up in his own parliament and in the ESUN, arguing for the rights of small nations, of the colonies. He'd done it all with grace and diplomacy and quiet perseverance, and never once lost his temper or issued ultimatums, and kept himself under such control that it was almost a tangible thing.

He hadn't been particularly controlled last night. Oh, he'd _tried_. He'd been painstakingly careful at the start, clearly scared of hurting Wufei, and forcing himself to hold back. He could have maintained it all night, probably, except that Wufei hadn't wanted it, had wanted more than the carefully-constructed illusion Zechs presented to the rest of the world. He'd wanted the person Zechs to be the person he really was, for him.

He thought he'd found him, somewhere during the night, all that passion and fire and wanting, mixed in with aching tenderness and need. Some of it had apparently spilled over. His doing.

'That was very…' Wufei couldn't think of the correct word. High-handed? Chivalrous? Wonderful? Absurdly over-protective? 'Unnecessary,' he said quietly. 'I can't operate as your bodyguard any more. Not now. Not when I'm your….not after this. I would have handed in my resignation anyway, even if she hadn't….'

'Fired you?' Zechs interrupted, a sudden flare of heat. 'Had you taken to her office under armed guard and treated you as if you'd committed some major transgression?'

Wufei wondered, dimly, who'd told Zechs all of that. 'But I had,' he said softly.

'I was in the heart of Sanque, with half a regiment outside. I was hardly in any immediate danger.'

'It's the principle, though.'

'Principle be damned!' Zechs burst out. 'Can we at least be direct with one another for one minute? You know perfectly well why you were on my staff, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with my personal safety.'

He'd known. Well, of course, he had. He'd never said it straight out like that, though. No one had.

'I know, yes,' Wufei said softly. 'But my official assignment was to act as your personal bodyguard, and what happened, last night, was against regulations. We're not allowed to get involved. I knew that perfectly well. Une was perfectly right to dismiss me.' He was smiling again, for no apparent reason. 'I do appreciate what you did.' He wished he'd been there, seen Zechs being something other than polite and reasonable. 'Thank you.'

'You're quite welcome. You really don't want to go back to Preventers? I thought it was important to you.' There was the beginning of a smile lurking around his mouth; just a faint tilt at one corner.

He'd been worried, Wufei realised with a jolt. Worried that Wufei would take all of this badly, would maybe reject him as a result of it.

'It was important. But it's just a job. It was very important, after the war, to have something, something that I could do.' He thought Zechs would understand that. He hadn't let himself think too much about any of it, yet. About what it would be like to wake up and not have the uniform to put on. He couldn't go back, he knew that much, even if Zechs did force them to reinstate him. 'There are other things.'

'You are quite sure about this? I don't want you to end up regretting anything.'

'I don't think I will,' Wufei said honestly. There were things he would miss, naturally, but he'd survive.

'All right.' Zechs took a deep breath, and then a couple of steps toward him. 'It was very difficult, this morning, having to leave you. It's not something I want to make a habit of doing.'

'It was horrendous, being left. And… afterwards.' There; he'd admitted it.

'_No one told me_.' His expression was suddenly lethal; for the first time, Wufei could imagine him as a pilot, as he must have been during the war. Years before he'd become this taut, controlled, _careful_ man, who permitted himself nothing, not even honest emotion, most of the time. 'You were dragged before some sort of inquisition and _no one_ bothered to inform me of the fact until it was over.'

'I don't think,' Wufei said carefully, 'that anyone really knew what was happening.' It was a ridiculous thing to say and he quite deserved the look Zechs gave him in return.

'Oh, I imagine most of them would have some idea what might happen when two of them spend the night together.'

Wufei felt himself blushing. Well, of course they'd known. 'That, yes. But they didn't know…. that it meant something.'

Zechs looked slightly mollified at that, for about two seconds. 'I assume the members of my staff who were present treated you with rather more courtesy than the members of your own organisation?' He said it with an expression that promised retribution to anyone who had done otherwise.

'Yes,' Wufei said honestly, and couldn't help wondering if any of the people who'd been in the room with him still had their jobs. Lucky that the rulers of Sanque no longer possessed the power of decapitating anyone who happened to displease them, or there was a real chance, judging by this current ruler's current expression, that there might well be headless bodies floating in the moat.

The first hour, facing Une and two other high-ranking officers in Preventers, one summoned specifically from Luxembourg, had been hideous, but nothing worse than he'd expected or deserved. He hadn't even had anything to say in his own defence, no excuses to offer.

Things had got steadily worse with the arrival of the grey-suited bureaucrats from the civil service, and representatives from the palace. He knew some of them by sight at least; Zechs' press officer and one of his executive assistants and the Minister for Domestic Affairs.

They'd come in, bristling and antagonistic towards the entire Preventers organisation in general, and, in particular, the agent, who'd gone into their king's suite, off duty, without being summoned; taking some sort of unauthorised, unapproved medication. He hadn't come out.

It had been bearable, getting dressed down by his superiors for what was, at the very least, highly unprofessional behaviour, no worse than he'd deserved or expected.

Being dragged into the centre of this power struggle had been appalling.

No one from the palace had wanted Preventers anywhere near Zechs from the beginning; didn't want armed agents, following their own agenda, so close to their king. Having one agent included on each shift had been a compromise Zechs himself had suggested; a courtesy which hadn't pleased anyone.

This was the ideal chance to get rid of even that small element of Preventer presence. He'd just sat there, numbly, listening to the palace staff talking about _reckless endangerment_ and _unacceptable conduct _and making the whole episode sound like it had been orchestrated as part of some sort of convoluted Preventers' plot.

Then, Une had tried to turn the tables on them, get him to admit that the whole thing was Zechs' fault, that he'd abused a position of power to seduce, suborn, someone under his command, bound to obey his orders.

Whatever he'd said in answer to that, or however he'd said it – he couldn't exactly remember any more - the whole atmosphere had abruptly changed.

No one, he thought, had genuinely believed him to be a possible threat to Zechs' safety, but the opportunity was too good to pass up; a heaven-sent opportunity to accuse Preventers of somehow jeopardising their king at worst, placing him in a compromising position at best.

They'd handled him with kid gloves after that, delicately shifting from accusations and blame to delicate mentions of how it was a personal matter for consideration at some point in the future. (After taking directions from Zechs, was what they'd meant).

He was the man their king had chosen to spend the night with, and that catapulted him from being a fairly anonymous bodyguard, a representative of an organisation they mostly disapproved of, into someone important, someone who mattered.

Someone who would presumably be talking to the king about all of this.

_Protective_, Duo had called Zechs, and it was perfectly true. Wufei knew how he felt about Sanque, about other smaller nations in danger of being absorbed whole into the ESUN, about the colonies. About Relena. Naturally, it followed that he'd be absurdly over-protective of the people in his life, and all the members of his staff clearly knew it.

There had been a few, hushed discreet questions, but nothing overt. Wary, speculative glances, probably wondering what Zechs – who could have had anyone – had seen in this young man. A colonial, a former terrorist, no one of any real importance, in the grand scheme of things. They'd been very cautious, very polite. They knew Zechs, these people; some of them had known him as a child. They knew that Wufei had to mean something to him.

Wufei shivered, thinking about it. They'd known exactly what had happened. Stupidly naïve of him, but it hadn't really occurred to him how obvious it would look. Of _course_, it was obvious. It wasn't like anyone would imagine he and Zechs had spent seven hours discussing the weather.

'They were all very polite,' he said quietly.

Zechs nodded. 'Good. I gather the commander asked you to sign a disclaimer about anything that might or might not have happened. She said you were … rather vehement about your refusal.'

It had been another insult; asking him that. Had she honestly expected him to rush out and sell his story to the tabloids? Wufei set his jaw, an automatic gesture to counteract the sudden blush. Dear gods, the look in Zechs' eyes, watching him. 'I absolutely refused, yes. I did agree, when some of your people from the palace asked, not to talk about it to anyone, until I'd spoken to you.'

'Yes, I gather that you were very emphatic with Une,' Zechs said, approving. 'I think you may have saved several of my staff from having immediate coronaries, and I do appreciate that. I imagine they would have preferred me to have a rather more decorous courtship.'

'Well. We didn't exactly do that.'

'No,' Zechs agreed, very low. 'Tell me what you want, please. I'm afraid you've already had a rather unpleasant taste of what it can be like, being with me. I will perfectly understand, should you wish to reconsider anything you said this morning.'

It sounded like he'd rehearsed it. He probably had. He looked lost again, bleached of the anger he'd been holding on to when he'd first walked into the room. Several times, now, that he'd looked so unsure, since he'd opened the door of his suite at midnight. Once on the threshold of his bedroom, until Wufei had reached out to take his hand.

_Entirely consensual. _

'I don't want to reconsider anything,' Wufei said quickly, taking the few steps that still remained them in a rush. 'It's all right. I knew, really, what it would be like.'

'Did you?' Zechs was holding himself stiffly, eyes intent.

'Well. I would have if I'd let myself think about it.' It was the perfect truth, and won him a faint smile. 'I only had another few weeks on your security detail,' he went on. All Preventer assignments were for two years only. He knew the reasons and approved of them, in theory. It had been possible, just, that Zechs might ask for his contract to be extended. It had been quite possible that he wouldn't. And there might never have been another chance to approach him.

'I know.' He'd relaxed, just a fraction, slumped enough to rest his chin on Wufei's shoulder. 'I was going to wait. I thought it might be easier if you weren't on my staff.'

Ah. That was what he'd been talking about then, that morning.

'_This was not how I'd meant it to be.'_

Wufei lifted one hand, stroked Zechs' gleaming hair, wondering what he _had_ planned it to be like. Discreet and unrushed and romantic and very unlike all that had happened. He'd probably laid all sorts of plans for this imaginary courtship. Wufei knew him well enough to doubt if any of it would ever have really happened, precisely because he'd wanted it so much, and Zechs Merquise – King Miliardo of Sanque, the first of his name – never allowed himself anything that was just for himself.

'Well, I'm not on your staff now.' He ran a strand of blond hair through his fingers. He could do this, now, whenever he wanted. He'd probably end up on the front page of _Hello_ magazine, looking soppy and besotted. 'So you're stuck with me.'

'It does seem like that, yes.' Zechs kissed him then, _finally_. 'I should probably tell you. I had a brief telephone call from Quatre Winner just before we landed. I'm not sure if I can remember his exact words, but the gist was that he'd pull all of WEI's investments out of Sanque if I didn't treat you in a way he considered acceptable.'

Oh, dear gods. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Typical Quat. 'I'm sure he didn't mean it.'

'He sounded fairly genuine. And Mr. Barton issued some very inventive death threats.'

Wufei did laugh then. This was becoming a total farce, and he was seriously going to have to talk to his friends about boundaries. 'So, essentially, you're with me only because my friends are capable of ruining your country's economy and killing you in very creative ways?'

Zechs nodded, all that gleaming blond hair sliding over his collar. 'It's a terrible burden, yes, but I've been raised to sacrifice so much for duty and honour, I may conceivably be able to put up with you.'

Wufei sighed happily. 'You'll have to, won't you? You don't have a choice any more.'

'I don't want a choice.' Zechs, reached out, took his chin in both hands. 'All of what I said this morning, about us trying to keep this low profile at the start, that's impossible now. Too many people know.'

'I know that.' And should be concerned, but it was impossible, with Zechs' hands touching him. 'I really…hate the idea of all of that. Journalists and interviews.'

'The palace will handle most of it. But there will be a great deal of interest. It may not be terribly pleasant, all of it. Not so much in Sanq; the press tends to be respectful, and allow a certain amount of privacy, but I can't say the same for most of the world media.'

'No.' Wufei closed his eyes. Zechs's thumb was rubbing gently over his lower lip; he darted his tongue out to touch it and Zechs groaned. 'I don't suppose you have any remote castles? Just to visit, before it all goes crazy?'

'As long as you like,' Zechs said at once. He looked younger when he smiled like that; excited and decisive, with an edge of command to it. 'Do you need to go home first, to pack?'

'What? _Now_? Today?' He'd meant the suggestion for some time in the rather vague future, when he'd made some progress in reordering his life, when Zechs could find a way to clear his schedule for a day or so.

Zechs pulled him in for another kiss. '_Now_. This minute. Or as soon as I organise transport.'

'You _can't_.' He knew the schedule; Brussels, Berlin, home for two days, then off to the United States. All terribly important engagements. Unmissable.

The third kiss stole all of his breath, along with most of the objections.

'I most certainly can. You're not my bodyguard any more, so you don't actually get any say in my schedule. And, just because you order me around in bed doesn't mean you get to do it all the time. Now, my driver can take you home, if you like, or you can borrow something from your friends.' His eyes drifted, appraisingly, over his outfit. 'I rather like that idea. There will be a helicopter waiting at the palace for us in an hour. Is that understood?'

'Um,' Wufei fought for words – coherent, decipherable words to convey that he wasn't going to be bossed around like this – but it wasn't easy when he had Zechs wrapped around him, and _looking_ at him like that, so maybe he could put up with it, just this once. Anyway, it wasn't as if he was some peasant boy thrown over a knight's saddle and carried off to a lonely castle to be ravished. (Not entirely) The whole thing had been his idea, from the very start. The entirely consensual thing that had very definitely happened, and would hopefully happen again, fairly soon.

'All right,' he said softly, and reached out to tangle his fingers in Zechs' hair, tugging him down.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The Gundam Wing universe does not belong to me, and I make no monetary profit from writing.

Note 1: This is for everyone who has been kind enough to comment. Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing.

Note 2: times are calculated from midnight, when it all started.

**Epilogue: Part 1/2**

_+ 18 hours._

He doesn't even know where they're going.

He thinks it numbly as the helicopter's ground-crew perform last-minute security checks. It feels wrong, as always, sitting by and watching other people do that. Knowing that he won't be the one to pilot. (He wonders if Zechs feels the same.)

This is real. All of it.

It still feels like a dream though, all of it.

He doesn't know, exactly, where they've going, but he has a fair idea. Somewhere remote, he'd asked for, and Zechs had spoken, once or twice, of a castle in the north of Sanque where his family had spent summer holidays. An old fortress in the mountains, far from cities and politics and titles, where he'd been allowed to pretend to be a normal little boy.

Somewhere where he can pretend to be a normal man.

He has his phone and Heero's rucksack, filled with clothes borrowed from his friends, packed by Duo.

He'd been half-scared to go back home, to find himself in his own sanctuary where it would be just too tempting to lock the doors and shut out the world, so he'd accepted Duo's offer to borrow some things, and had raced upstairs with him, leaving Zechs downstairs to be glared at by Heero. (They'd been talking about a new X-Box game when Wufei came back down – one of them had managed to break the ice)

'_D'you have any idea where you're going?' Duo had asked, looking into his wardrobe. 'Desert island? Ski lodge in the Alps?'_

'_No.' He'd almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but that could all too quickly have become hysteria. 'No idea.'_

_Duo glanced back at him. 'OK then. A bit of everything. Probably won't be needing too many clothes anyway.'_

'_No,' Wufei swallowed._

'_Right.' Duo dumped an armload of things into the bag and rocked back on his heels. 'You call us every night. Us or Quat and Tro. Non-negotiable. If we don't hear from you, we'll assume there's something wrong. OK?'_

'_OK.' Then he thought of something. 'Quat! You said he was coming here.'_

_Duo laughed. 'Yeah. You might want to call him tonight unless you want a shuttle from L4 landing wherever you are. Might kill the romance a bit. And talking of romance, I've shoved a few bits and pieces into the front pocket. Maybe don't let the butler or whoever unpack for you.'_

_Wufei flushed at the idea of what those 'bits and pieces' might be, but held Duo's gaze anyway. 'Thank you.'_

'_Whatever.' Duo shrugged it off, handed him the bag. 'Now, you're ready to go. Have fun.'_

Wufei's not a planner like Quatre. (No one is) These days, though, he generally thinks things through.

Generally. Not always. Instead, he'd risked his career and his reputation to knock on a door, at midnight, and now it's just the two of them, again, side by side in the back of the royal helicopter, very carefully not touching, even though the pilots and the ground crew are far too well trained to look at them.

One of them, at some point, is going to have to say something. The thought makes him smile, and then Zechs reaches out and touches his wrist.

'Yes?'

Wufei's fingers curl around the king's hand. It's warm.

'Yes.'

_+ 94 hours. _

He wakes to Zechs' hands on him.

It's pleasant; not the first time he's woken up like this in the past three days, and he's still half-asleep, and it takes longer than it should for him to realise that something is wrong.

The touches aren't intimate or sexual; they're oddly brisk and clinical and impersonal. Zechs doesn't touch him like that. Then he works it out; it's how you check someone for

wounds, for injuries, and then it changes and Zechs is holding him so tightly it hurts.

'Zechs, my heart, don't. I'm all right.'

Either the name, or the endearment, or something in his tone, gets through, because Zechs

stops clutching him like that, like a dream he's desperately trying to cling to.

'I'm all right,' Wufei repeats. 'I'm fine. Really. I'm here.'

It was a nightmare, he gathers eventually, from what Zechs says, from the jerky, incoherent sentences, and mostly from what he doesn't say. Something about Wufei being hurt, and then not being there at all. Wufei doesn't press him for more any details. They

both have far too much in their pasts to feed nightmares.

It takes Zechs a while to relax, and they end up with him lying in Wufei's lap, with Wufei propped against one of the bed-posts, stroking the tangled blond hair and murmuring soft,

silly things in his ear, while the sky outside slowly flushes from indigo to soft shades of apricot and rose.

'I was scared it was all a dream.' Zechs manages finally. 'That you were a dream.'

'I'm here. Always. Always.'

Zechs twists around to look up at him and that awful, strained look is finally missing from his eyes. 'Always,' he echoes, fiercely, and then pulls Wufei down for a kiss. 'I love you.'

Not the first time he's said it, actually, but this time they're not in the middle of the night,

in the middle of loving each other.

Then they just smile at each other; Zechs' expression, upside down, looks fond and a bit foolish and Wufei imagines he looks just the same.

'Well, that's one thing sorted out then.' He bends his head to kiss Zechs on the lips, very

tenderly, breathing the same three words into his mouth.

Zechs laughs a little, and then curls closer. 'I like this.' He says it uncertainly, as if he's

not sure he's allowed that much.

'Me too. Very much.' It's perfectly true. He's loved almost everything about the past few days, but above almost everything, he loves those few cherished little moments when there don't seem to be any boundaries between them. (It doesn't just happen during sex).

He winds a stray strand of blond hair absently around one finger. 'I've always been here. I always will be.'

'I always want you to be.'

It's quiet after that. Even though Wufei's home is located in a small side-street, there's still noise in the early morning. Traffic, and neighbours' voices, and doors closing. There's none of that here. Birdsong, and (if he listens carefully) the distant sound of the sea, and the quiet breathing of two men. Two heartbeats. That's all.

And promise, and commitment, and a quiet, all-encompassing joy.

'I've always been yours,' he adds softly. 'If you weren't such an idiot, you'd have noticed months ago.'

It makes Zechs smile. 'Ah. We're down to name-calling now, are we?' he asks lightly, and then looks up. 'I was never sure,' he says, suddenly very serious. 'And I was scared I was mistaken. You could have gone to Une with sexual harassment charges.'

Wufei snorts, giving the little lock of hair in his fingers a tug. 'I would _not_! You can't honestly have thought I'd ever do something like that.'

'I wasn't to know that,' Zech points out. 'I did wonder, sometimes, but then I thought maybe I was letting myself imagine things, pretend that just because I wanted something, I could convince myself it was true. And I couldn't have done anything anyway; you were a member of my personal staff.'

'Quite ridiculously honourable.'

'Principled,' Zechs corrects. 'Not like some horribly forward, demanding Colonials.'

Wufei grins. 'If I hadn't been, we wouldn't be here now.'

'Oh, believe me. I wasn't complaining,' Zechs assures him. 'I very, very much enjoy the fact that you are exceptionally forward and endlessly demanding.' One hand comes to rest on his hip; warm, knowing, sensual.

'Demanding, yes,' Wufei agrees, as Zechs fingers trail down a little lower.

There's more silence after that; at least, not silence precisely, but an absence of actual words.

_+ 15 days_

They'd turned out the lights an hour ago, stayed awake a while longer. He hasn't been able to sleep. This is the last night in their magical, self-contained world, their castle by the sea. Tomorrow, there's reality to be faced.

Wufei tries to focus on breathing, looking out of the window. All darkness, apart from a few stars piercing the black, and the even blacker rampart of the cliffs to the east.

His ankle aches, just a little, where he'd wrenched it that afternoon. They'd been abseiling, and he'd taken the last jump too fast, not looking at the ground, wanting to be the first down.

There'd always been some competitiveness to their relationship; he'd been Zechs' partner at the rifle range and with swords; they'd raced Zechs' horses in the palace grounds. He'd never given Zechs any quarter. At least he'd tried not to, but he'd always had an awareness of who – what – Zechs – was, and that his main task was to protect him.

It's different now; there's an edge to it, and once or twice he's let himself analyse that, and it has to do with what happens in this room, in darkness. Not that it just happens here; there's a charmingly rustic rose-smothered terrace, and a swing in the gardens, and the grand piano in the library. (Also, the massive red-oak desk in the library.) But it's in this room, with the door bolted, that he's started to come to terms with certain things about himself, about what he wants.

Zechs hasn't said anything, which (Wufei is keenly aware) doesn't mean he hasn't noticed.

'I thought I'd tired you out.'

The voice at his elbow makes him start; he'd been staring out at the darkness, lost in thought. Wufei snorts (he's a former Gundam pilot; not that easily exhausted) and curls into him, a movement that's become natural very fast, and Zechs pulls him closer.

'How's your ankle?'

'Fine.' He imagines, rather than sees, Zechs' grin at that. 'It is.'

'Yes, and you'd say that if your foot was hanging off. What's keeping you awake then?'

'I don't want to leave here.'

'Well then, we'll stay longer,' Zechs says at once.

'You're supposed to be meeting the Queen of Sweden tomorrow,' Wufei reminds him.

'She is an incredibly boring woman,' Zechs mutters, petulant as a child being deprived of a treat. 'And she only eats pickled fish. Yes, you can laugh now but you won't be laughing when you have to kiss me after I've been eating dried herring all afternoon.'

Wufei makes a face. 'That _is_ revolting. Maybe we should stay here. Although I think your civil service might take a contract out on me if you don't go back soon.'

It's a joke (clearly) but there's a vein of truth in there. Zechs has spent a few hours each day in his study with his laptop, and he's replied to a couple of urgent phone messages passed on by the housekeeper, but it's nowhere near the amount of hours he usually spends working. Wufei has to be the least popular person in government circles at the moment.

'I'd like to come back here, whenever we can get away.' He means it. He's seen ridiculously little of the countryside in Sanque and he's fallen in love with it. He twists in Zechs' embrace to face him, twining both arms around the taller man's neck.

For all they've spent most of all the past two weeks talking (among various other things), there are so many things they haven't mentioned. They've touched on the future in the vaguest terms; places they both want to visit, some of Zechs' hopes for Sanque, Wufei's very vague plans for what he's going to do next, but there's always been the underlying assumption that they'll spend it together.

'I don't want to live in the palace,' he says suddenly. It's a thing he's known all along, but hasn't voiced it until now, hasn't really consciously thought it. It's been fine here, in an ancient castle under a cliff, with a handful of elderly servants who knew Zechs as a boy, but it would be different in Sanque City. It is different. He knows what it's like; no privacy, no freedom, every movement observed.

'No.' It's the barest breath of sound from Zechs; impossible to tell what he's thinking, except that his arm has tightened around Wufei's waist. 'I know. I don't expect you to. I – I don't know what you want.'

_What he wants._

At the beginning, he'd imagined this would be an idyllic little interlude, time for them to get to know each other. He'd imagined they'd go back home, afterwards, and then settle

for seeing each other perhaps a couple of times a week.

So stupid. He can't imagine, now, not waking up beside this man, not falling asleep in his arms.

Impossible.

He takes a deep breath. 'My house is very small, but it's in a nice area, near the Botanic Gardens, and it's central and it's in a side-street, a cul-de-sac, so it's secure. It's only half an hour from the palace.'

'Wufei, my treasure, are you asking me to move in with you?'

'Um. Yes?'

'Is that a question? Are you sure?'

'I'm sure.' He is suddenly, and he blocks out a vision of reporters in his street, talking to his neighbours. (Old Mrs. Anderson next door telling them that he's _such_ a nice young man who always carries her shopping and rescued her cat when it had climbed a too-tall tree.) 'I'm unemployed now, remember? I need someone to help me pay the rent.'

'Yes, then,' Zechs says instantly, just like that, and laughs at his face. 'You like where you live. I don't, particularly.'

'Right,' Wufei says a bit helplessly. He can't _imagine_ it; Zechs in his home. Eating at his little dining table; sleeping on his futon. (Well, he can possibly imagine that.) Zechs turning up with a retinue of servants and carloads of luggage. 'It's not…fancy or anything. And there's not a lot of space. For two people. '

'Wufei,' Zechs stops him babbling by kissing him. 'You do know I've spent most of my life living in military barracks. I would love to share your home. Once you're in it.'

'Well, that would be the point.'

'I imagine it would, yes.' He takes Wufei's chin in one hand, tilts it so he's looking him in the eye. 'One thing, treasure.'

A note in his voice, the silly, sweet endearment (because Zechs does treasure him, truly) makes his colour rise and try to look away.

'I understand, really,' Zechs says, 'but I'd rather you didn't have any more accidents trying to prove yourself to me. Yes?'

Face flaming now, he manages to stutter something but he isn't sure if it makes sense.

'Listen, 'Fei. Look at me.'

Even if Zechs wasn't holding him, he couldn't have looked away from that burning gaze. He couldn't. He's lost, he's been lost from the very first, and oh, gods, it terrifies him, when he lets himself think about it; how much control this man has over him, if he chose to use it.

'Let me say this, just once,' Zechs breathes. 'Whatever happens between us, whatever power you chose to grant me, it is a gift, given by you. I would never, _never_ ask more than that. Do you understand?'

And he does, suddenly.

_**+29 days**_**  
**

'So,' Duo says, grinning out of Wufei's laptop screen. 'I guess I'd better let you go off to your fancy party then.'

'I'm trying to forget about that.' He can't stop himself taking a quick glance at the time though. Duo's right. The car will be arriving soon. 'I don't want to go.'

'It's a _party_,' Duo protests. 'Drink, food, dancing with your hot blond. It'll be fun.'

Wufei makes a face, knowing it won't. He rarely drinks alcohol; he won't like any of the ridiculously extravagant foods; he dislikes dancing and so does Zechs, as far as he knows.

'Oh, well, if you're _determined_ not to enjoy yourself.' Easy for Duo to say, on holiday in Thailand, half a world away. Heero is in Bangkok for a global Preventers conference, and Duo's tagged along.

'It's not a party,' Wufei grumbles. 'It's a ball. And there will be photographers and stupid people asking stupid questions and I'll hate it. What are you going to do?'

Duo laughs. 'Waiting for Heero to get back from some seminar thingy. Then taking him out to dinner and a sex show.'

'You are not!'

'Oh, yeah. Should be fun. I was looking up the website; these guys can do all kinds of stuff with ping-pong balls and feathers and balloons. Crazy stuff. Might pick up a few new tricks; keep Heero on his toes. So, listen, before I go, I was talking to Quat earlier. You took the job!'

'After we spent an hour haggling over the salary he wanted to pay me. I finally managed to get him to cut it by half.'

'Bet that's the first time in the history of the universe anyone's ever said that!'

'Well, he was trying to get me to accept some ridiculously inflated amount. And it's only for some part-time freelancing.'

'_Only_ for some highly confidential projects, sounds like,' Duo notes. 'Right. Better let you go. You look good by the way. Seriously hot.'

Wufei mutters something, logging off. He's learning to accept compliments from Zechs (and rather likes them) but not from anyone else. He gives himself a quick look in the mirror on his way out the door; something that's not easy unless he contorts himself around the bedside table. Zechs lasted one night on his futon (at least the parts of him that could fit did). The new bed is enormous and takes up most of the floor space, but Wufei can't quite bring himself to complain about it.

Zechs is already in the hall when he runs downstairs.

'Sorry I'm late!'

'Hmm.' Zechs gives him an appreciative, appraising look. 'No need to apologise. You look breathtaking. Ready?'

There are a few neighbours standing at their front doors. Honestly, after a couple of weeks of Zechs in residence, they should be used to him by now; used to the fact that a cavalcade of long black cars and motorcycles turn up regularly. They've all been very good about the new security protocols though, so Wufei gives Mrs. Anderson and her friend (and cat) a little wave as he gets into the car.

He's laughing, actually, as he slides on to the luxurious leather seats. It's all been so surreal. His entire life's turned upside down, lately. His spare room has become Zechs' home office; he has officers of the Royal Guard outside his front door. (Inside, when it's raining) Zechs is surprisingly fond of cooking, is utterly unable to figure out the correct cycles on the washing machine, has started growing herbs in the back garden.

Zechs' phone rings as they drive off; he gives Wufei a quick murmur of apology, but he's used to it, now. Zechs wouldn't have answered if it hadn't been important, he knows that. And it gives him a little space just to think; something that doesn't happen very often in the whirlwind his life's become lately.

Most of it has been wonderful. Of course, he doesn't get to spend as much time with Zechs as he would like, and there are nights when Zechs comes home late and falls into bed after a few words, or doesn't come home at all, and he loathes the fact that he's become something of an unwitting, unwilling celebrity. (There are websites, apparently; Duo's told him.)

And it hasn't even been all that bad (yet) which he knows is due mostly to Zechs' utter insistence on keeping him as sheltered as possible, and the palace press office, which has been running interference and making a very few official statements, along with requests for his and Zechs' privacy.

There've been no interviews yet, and only photographs of him at the two official functions he's attended with Zechs; a concert in aid of an environmental charity, and a state banquet for the princess of Japan (who'd been charming.)

The media, so far, have decided to portray him as endearingly shy, rather than stiff or standoffish or awkward; a young man caught up in a fairytale fantasy. The people of Sanque love their king, are utterly enthralled by his romance. A few of the more upmarket broadsheets have printed (mostly inaccurate) articles on L5 culture and customs.

No mentions, yet, of much of his past. They've talked about L5, of course, drawing parallels between it and the fall of the Sanque kingdom, of how he and Zechs both lost so

much, so young.

Of course, the rest of it has to come out, eventually. Far too many people know.

For now, it's easier to go along with the love story that graces the TV screens; an entirely new spin on the prince and the pauper story.

All quite ridiculous. He'd grown up at the centre of power on L5, in his grandfather's hall, made a dynastic marriage at the age of fourteen. He was born into a family which could trace its lineage back to the emperors of China. He's not quite the unworldly, unsophisticated person he's being portrayed as.

Zechs ends his phone call as they pull up outside the palace. It's just as awful as he'd imagined; there's a long line of cars and an army of reporters.

He knows the protocol for this, now, after the awful first time when he stepped out of the car at the Royal Opera House, alone, without even thinking about it. It was something he'd done hundreds of times as Zechs' bodyguard and totally automatic. He'd found himself facing every photographer in the known universe so the first official photographs of him are far less than flattering; looking lost and scared and alone.

Now, he lets Zechs step out first, and take his hand, arranging his face into something approximating a smile. (He hates this bit, hates facing the phalanx of photographers with

flashing lights)

It's not so bad when they're inside. Zechs stays with him at the start, and they even get to talk a little to each other, in between all the necessary mingling. It can't last, of course; Zechs goes off to talk to someone and Wufei accepts a glass of orange juice and wanders around, trying not to catch anyone's eye.

He hated these things when he was just a Preventer, when he could at least hide behind the uniform, and no one really wanted him to do anything but stand around looking professional and competent and vaguely intimidating. He's just shaped the thought when Une appears in front of him.

'Wufei,' she says calmly, the first time she's ever used his name. 'Good evening.'

'Commander.' He says it very formally.

'Do you have a moment?'

Wufei nods, because they'll have to speak eventually. The last time they'd met, it had been, quite possibly, one of the lowest points in his life, letting her storm at him about he'd wrecked a promising career, possibly jeopardised Preventers' position in Sanque, and

he'd had no defence to offer whatsoever.

Things have changed now.

He's no longer the errant employee to be reprimanded. She's still in Sanque only because he'd persuaded Zechs not to expel the whole organisation, even if the role has been diluted. Sanque is too important. And Zechs - Wufei has only respect for his former colleagues – he likes the idea of them still guarding the king.

So, he's the one with the power, this time.

'No regrets?' She peers at him closely as she speaks.

He holds her gaze. 'None whatsoever.'

'I imagine not.' She gives him the ghost of a wink as she turns away. 'Neither have I, actually.'

He's half turned to walk away himself, whirls back when she says that. 'What exactly is that supposed to mean?'

She meets his gaze unflinchingly. 'I imagine you can work it out. It's always been my plan, to put one of my agents in such close proximity to him.'

'I'm not one of your agents anymore,' Wufei snaps. 'You fired me, or don't you remember?'

The woman, damn her, is totally unfazed. 'That was a highly regrettable incident, and hardly my fault.' She actually dares to smile at him. 'You may not wear the uniform any more, but I know where your loyalties still lie.'

'Not with you!'

'No? With your former colleagues, then? Your friends who still work for me? The people on this planet? I know you, Wufei. You won't just stand by and let him try to destroy it all again when that control of his finally snaps.'

'He's not like that!' He feels sick. She's spent most of the past seven years trying to get Preventer agents closer to Zechs. Now, she's achieved the ultimate prize. She's put one in

his bed.

'He is exactly like that. He's broken, Chang. He's been broken for a very long time. Or did you actually imagine your little romance had put him back together again? That he's suddenly miraculously cured because he's got you in his life now?'

She walks away after that, leaving him clutching his glass of orange juice like a life preserver.

'What's wrong?' Zechs materialises at his side, too fast; he had to have been watching. 'What did she say to you?' He looks ready to find the woman and strangle her with his

bare hands, and Wufei feels like he'd gladly help.

'I need to talk to you. Somewhere private.'

'Come on.' Zechs takes his arm, leading him out on to a small balcony, pulling the heavy

velvet curtains behind them. 'What is it?'

Wufei takes a sip of juice and regrets it as soon as he swallows. This is – beyond awful. What if Zechs believes it was all a set up, from the start, because that's how it could look? As if the whole thing was orchestrated by Une, right up to his humiliating dismissal, sending him rushing back to Zechs?

_He's broken._

Zechs is – damaged, Wufei knows that. And no, despite what Une had said, he knows that he hasn't managed to solve everything. Zechs still has nightmares, is still far too tightly controlled, too driven by what he feels he owes the world. But there is more joy in his life now. He's slowly starting to delegate more; to refuse requests. He laughs more, not just with Wufei.

'Wufei?' Zechs says softly. 'Please. Talk to me.'

'It's Une. I think...I think that at some level she tried to set the two of us up. She said something about how she'd wanted to get someone closer to you.' He'd been looking at his shoes when he started speaking, but lifts his eyes to Zechs' face at the end, expecting

anger, sorrow, bitterness, shock.

Zechs just shrugs. 'Yes. I worked that out quite a while ago.' He smiles at Wufei's expression. 'Well. She knows me, and I did think it couldn't be pure coincidence that practically every agent she assigned to work at the palace happened to be a stunningly

attractive young man.'

Wufei goes slowly, painfully scarlet. He'd never even thought of that. 'I didn't know!' he

blurts suddenly.

'Oh, treasure, I know that.' He slides both arms around Wufei's waist, pulling him closer, and bends his head to kiss him, lingeringly, on the mouth. 'Don't look so worried, my love. It's not important. I know perfectly well you weren't involved in any deep, dark Preventers plot to seduce me. Well, perhaps only one of your own making, and I don't

object to that in the least. I think Maxwell was the one I was supposed to fall for originally. He always seemed to be around for a couple of weeks. I imagine she thought I wouldn't be able to resist the challenge of taking Heero Yuy's lover away from him.'

It makes a sick sort of sense, and his stomach churns. The tart orange juice isn't helping. He turns away, looking down at the gardens below. Moonlight shining on the play of the fountains. So stupid, feeling jealous, given what he and Zechs have, but he can't help it. Had Zechs been attracted to Duo, even a little? (How could he not, really?)

''Fei.' Zechs says it softly. 'There was never anything. There was only you, ever. It was here I saw you for the first time. Downstairs, at my sister's birthday party. Do you remember?'

'Of course.' He's surprised Zechs does, though. He hadn't even thought Zechs had seen him. Zechs had come into the hallway with Relena on his arm. Wufei had been standing on either side of the double doors leading into the ballroom and he'd been transfixed by the handsome, glittering king, with a fluttering train of courtiers in his wake.

'You were the only person in the whole place who wasn't clamouring for my attention,' Zechs continues softly. 'Just standing there, watching' He smiles, bittersweet. 'You were the only person I wanted to dance with. To do this with.'

Wufei lets his eyes drift closed as he sinks into the kiss.

When he opens them, Zechs is looking at him and his expression is painful to look at. 'Aren't you at all worried?' He asks, his voice harsh. 'That I'm all the things she says about me? Not just her.'

'You'd never hurt me,' Wufei says simply, and it's a certainty deep inside his soul. 'I know that.'

Zechs smiles and takes his hand. 'Good. Dance with me?'

Before he can object, (he thought Zechs disliked dancing; on the few occasions Wufei's seen him partner a suitable lady at a ball, he's looked like he's performing a rather distasteful duty) Zechs is leading him into the ballroom, He can't pull back without making a scene, and there isn't time to say he doesn't dance – at least, he can but he doesn't like it much. He never liked it before anyway, at the few parties he attended after the war, or at the clubs Duo and Quatre brought him to.

Maybe he does like it, after all, or maybe he just likes it with Zechs because it's rather enjoyable, like this, and Zech is very accomplished, so he doesn't have to do anything except follow his lead, and let Zechs glide them both about the room, and then, when the music slows, to dip him almost to the floor.

He comes up flushed and laughing, and unaware of the cameras clicking. He'll see the photographs the next morning though; they'll be all over the media. (The _Sanque Times_ will send them a framed copy of the original, and it will end up over their bed.)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The Gundam Wing universe does not belong to me, and I make no profit from writing about it.

Note: This is for Snowdragonct, for her birthday, with best wishes. Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing.

**Epilogue: Part 2/2:**

_+ 183 days_

Wufei pauses by the kitchen window and laughs out loud.

The king of Sanque is kneeling beside an earthenware tub, fussing over the herbs in his new planter, with the neighbour's cat perched on the edge. Tiddles is half-Siamese and very vocal, and the two of them are having what seems like a very involved conversation, with Zechs chirping away in counterpoint.

It's adorable, and a wonderful thing to see him so relaxed. He feels gloriously relaxed himself, and he's very deliberately not thinking about the files Quat sent him that morning. Or the stacks of documents Zechs' P.A. delivered. It's Sunday, and a glorious September morning; impossible not to take a day off. Everything will get done somehow.

Zechs' phone is lying conveniently on the kitchen table, and he quickly flicks it to the camera setting, and leans out of the open window to take a photo. When it vibrates, signalling a new message, he opens it without even thinking.

When he finishes reading, a couple of minutes later - the text was sent by the head of the Palace press office - Wufei taps one finger against the 'phone, and then puts it in his pocket, frowning. He's thoughtful as he goes to the fridge and pours two glasses of iced tea, the reason he came in to the kitchen in the first place.

'I hope I'm not interrupting anything important,' he says as he walks outside, handing Zechs a glass and bending to scratch the cat behind the ears. 'The two of you seemed to be having a very serious discussion.'

Zechs smiles up at him, and Wufei's breath catches. It's still hard to believe sometimes, that this man, this king, is _his_.

Not that he looks terribly royal at the moment, with his hair (it's longer now) pulled back into a messy ponytail, and a fair amount of soil on his jeans, and staining his t-shirt.

Wufei sits down at their little table, and Zechs shifts over to lean against his knee, cat-like, legs sprawled in front of him. 'How are your baby plants coping with their new home?'

'They'll manage.' He settles one arm across Wufei's knee. 'I hope, anyway.'

'I'm sure they'll be fine.' He puts his glass down. 'Zechs, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but I've just read a text from Marina.'

'She contacted you?' Zechs demanded, sounding outraged.

'Of course not!' Wufei gives the shining blond ponytail a little tug. 'You know perfectly well that no one on your staff would ever dare to call me, even if there was some kind of massive natural disaster. They're all far too terrified of you! I was using the camera on your phone, and the message came in, and I looked at it without even thinking.'

Zechs nods, looking just a little mollified. 'What does she want?'

'Something about an interview. In the 'Sanque Times', next month.' He slips one hand under the blond hair, and strokes the back of Zechs' neck. 'It might be something we could think about.'

'Absolutely not,' Zechs says, predictably enough. 'I told you, at the very start, that I'm not having you involved in any of that.'

'I am involved, though,' Wufei remarks. 'With you.'

Zechs drops his head. 'You don't know what it's like, 'Fei. To have these people digging into every part of your past, fabricating all sorts of nonsense to sell their ridiculous papers. I don't want you to have to go through any of that.'

'Nor do I,' Wufei says feelingly. 'But…I think that's the problem. If I – we – don't do some sort of interview, then it looks like we've got something to hide. It might be better just to get it over with, make some sort of gesture toward the media. It's a good paper; there'll be a list of pre-approved questions.'

'What questions?'

'Nothing too demanding.' He hands the 'phone over. 'Here. I think they're fairly standard.'

Zechs is still frowning as he looks at the screen. 'How did we meet? Well, I suppose everyone knows that by now.'

Wufei nods. 'While I was on your security staff. That's all right. And we don't have to say you thought I was possibly some sort of honey trap set by the head of Preventers.' He can laugh about it now.

Zechs doesn't laugh. 'I never thought that.'

'You must have wondered though, at the start.'

'Before I met you, possibly,' Zechs concedes grimly, and hands the 'phone back. 'Never after that.'

'Good.' Wufei bends down, and kisses him fiercely, and in the process somehow ends up sprawled in Zechs' lap, on the ground. (Not at all a bad place to be.) 'What's your favourite colour?'

'That's one of the questions?'

'No. I just realised I don't know.'

'Blue. And red. I like you in red.'

'What's the thing you most like about me? That is one of the questions, actually.'

'Hm.' Zechs considers, a teasing gleam in his eye. 'That rather depends on how explicit I'm allowed to be. How old is the average reader of this paper?'

'Too young for _that_ sort of answer, probably. Actually, I'm probably too young!'

'Well, I'm not sharing anything that personal with half the universe,' Zechs says decidedly. 'Next question.'

Wufei scans down the list. 'Hmmm. Honestly, nothing too dramatic. Nothing about the war.' It's surprising, until he thinks about it. Zechs is beloved in Sanque; his people know how hard he's trying to atone for the things he did. They're not going to deliberately hurt him. 'A few questions about our first date; what we have in common, that sort of thing. And our future plans.'

'To love you for the rest of my life,' Zechs says promptly. 'But I'm certainly not sharing _that_ with anyone else.'

'Absolutely not. You know, this is going to be an incredibly short, boring interview.'

'Then no one will ever want to speak to us again.' He hesitates for a moment. 'Since we are talking about the future, would you consider moving to a new house? Not immediately,' he adds quickly. 'I do love it here. It's been one of the happiest times of my life, sharing your home, but it is a little restricted, don't you think?'

'I know,' Wufei agrees. He loves his house, but it was never meant for two people, especially when one of them comes with a personal entourage. More space would be nice; he could take his books out of storage, and have his own study, perhaps. They could think about getting a pet. And they'd have a garden big enough for Zechs to have a vegetable patch and fruit trees, and to exercise in, and space for a small home gymnasium. At the moment, they have to go to the park to run, and there are endless security arrangements, and bodyguards trailing them.

'Somewhere a little out of the city, perhaps?' Zechs suggests.

'I'd like that, yes.' He says it a little absently, looking at the screen again. 'The question about future plans, you know what they really mean?'

'Oh, yes. And much as I'm sure it would be brilliant for their circulation rates if I proposed during an interview, I don't plan to do so.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Wufei says dryly, but he's grinning.

Zechs gives him one of those long, steady looks. 'If we do this interview, together, it is a very definite statement that we are …official.'

'I know.' Wufei gazes back at him, unflinching; knowing exactly what he means, what it will mean for him especially. Zechs knows how to deal with the press; how to smile on request and field questions and give answers that are more evasions than anything.

Wufei doesn't know how to do any of that, and it terrifies him.

'Do you think you're ready for all that?'

'I don't think I'll ever be ready for all that,' Wufei says with perfect honesty. 'But it's never going to go away, is it? Or get easier? So I'll just have to deal with it.'

Zechs' expression softens suddenly. 'We'll deal with it, yes? Together.'

_+ 274 days_

'Are you awake, 'Fei?' The words come as a soft breath along the back of his neck, accompanied by the tickle of Zechs' hair, the press of his lips between his shoulder-blades.

'Hmm?'

He manages to stay silent, not to react to Zechs' mouth and the leisurely progress of his hands down his spine. It's lovely, of course, but he's still half-asleep and it has to be ridiculously early and they didn't get to bed until almost three and the bed itself is cloud-soft and sinfully comfortable and he probably shouldn't have drunk that second Brandy Alexander and then Zechs' hands stray even lower…

'_Zechs_!'

'Yes, treasure?' Another kiss, to the nape of his neck, and the _pop_ of a bottle being opened, and then the leisurely drip of oil on his bare skin, and Zechs' hands stroking it onto him, into him.

Sunday morning sex, he thinks hazily, (It's Wednesday, actually) with the minute part of his brain that's still actually capable of rational thought; that isn't wholly focused on the slow, sweet glide of Zechs' body into his.

It had been hard and fast just a few hours ago, and lucky they'd made it to the bed at all. Dinner with the king and queen and president of Spain had gone on forever (the Spanish keep ridiculously late hours) and important policy decisions seem to be customarily made over drinks in the early hours of the morning.

This time, though, it's all about making it last; the sort of sex that can go on forever, the sort of sex he wants to last forever. Zechs's body flowing into his, and Zechs' hands coursing over his skin, and that deep voice loving him.

After, Zechs just curls around him, and he measures the time out in heartbeats, until Zechs kisses his bare shoulder and pulls slowly away. Wufei rolls over, watches him walk into the bathroom and, a minute later, hears the sound of the shower. He does think, for a moment, about following, but he's looked at the clock by then, and Zechs will have to leave soon, so he lies back down and snuggles into the cloud-soft nest of pillows.

They're not at home (they stay at the palace, now, sometimes; after late functions). Some chambermaid is going to have to clear up the stained sheets. He can't really bring himself to care; he would have, once.

Zechs comes back, dressed, and sits on the bed beside him, and Wufei tries not to notice that he glances at his watch, before he reaches out and smoothes Wufei's hair back from his forehead.

'I know. You have to go.' He closes his eyes anyway, savouring the feel of Zechs' hand, touching him.

'In a minute.'

He opens his eyes as Zechs' mouth brushes against his.

'So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?'

His mind is actually blank for a few seconds, scrambling for something that sounds even slightly constructive; something that might compare to the fact that Zechs will be spending the day at an ESUN conference on stopping child labour in the Colonies.

'I have a report for Quat,' he says finally, although actually it's finished (which Zechs knows) and he just needs to give it one final proof. 'I need to call him, about arrangements for Christmas. And I have that new list of houses that Gabrielle sent us yesterday. I might look over that again and see if I can go to view them this afternoon.'

'I forgot,' Zechs says regretfully. 'I don't think I'll be finished in time.'

'I know. It's all right.' He manages a smile, knowing it looks forced. 'If any of them look suitable, we can go together at the weekend.'

'I'd better go, love. I'll see you tonight.'

Wufei nods. He knows better, now, than to ask what time that might be.

'What is it?' Zechs raises one of his hands to his lips, sweeping his tongue across the palm.

'Nothing.'

'Tell me, treasure. Please.' The words are soft enough, but there's a compelling edge to them (and Wufei doesn't like to think, very often, about how much he likes it when Zechs talks to him like that) and Zechs nips one of his fingertips and then waits.

'Can't we talk about this tonight? You'll be late if you don't leave now.'

'Then I'll be late.' Zechs shifts to sit against the headboard, pulling Wufei into his arms. 'I know something's been bothering you, and this time you are going to tell me what's wrong, and every minute you try to put it off only means that all those poor innocent little children on the colonies have to spend more time being exploited by greedy corporations.'

He chokes on a laugh. 'That's not fair! I don't know. I just feel….rather useless right now.'

'Oh, love. You are the least useless person I have ever known in my life.' A kiss, pressed to the precise centre of his palm. 'You miss Preventers, don't you?'

'Not really. I miss having a definite job. Feeling I was doing something valuable.'

'You're very young, love,' Zechs says quietly. 'I know you're not quite sure what you want to do with your life, but you don't have to decide right away. There's nothing wrong with taking a little time to adjust to how much everything thing's changed.'

'I suppose. But it's been nine months now!'

Zechs chuckles and then bends down to kiss him; it's a very involved, intricate kiss and one that doesn't really remotely take into account that dozens of ESUN delegates are probably starting to wonder where he is. 'That's not very long, love, really. Not considering how much everything has changed. Just give it a little time, hmm? Whatever you decide, you know I'll support you as much as you let me.'

His smile, this time, is genuine. Even if nothing's really been solved, at least he's told Zechs, and that helps.

'You really have to go. Before the guards or one of your assistants decide to break this door down.'

'Demanding colonial,' Zechs grumbles; an old joke, but he does stand up. 'Don't worry about this too much, 'Fei, please. I'll see you tonight, and we can talk about things properly.'

Wufei watches him walk away, and then lies back down. Not so long ago, a whole day off was a rare and precious treat, eagerly anticipated. It's not quite the same when you have a whole string of them. He's never in his whole life had to _fill time._ He's not terribly good at it.

He's tried. He does projects for Quat, and he accompanies Zechs to a lot of functions and parties and official engagements and he's become quite practised at mingling and making small talk, and of course he reads a lot, and spends time with his friends when they're free, but there's still a lot of hours when Zechs isn't around where he spends far too much time just…waiting.

It's the exact opposite to when he'd been in Preventers, when he'd longed for more free time, to read and travel and exercise. He has it all now, and he's still not content.

Stupid, Wufei chides himself. Utterly stupid. He has Zechs, someone who adores him, and that should mean everything.

Anyway, he has plenty to do today. Work and house-hunting, and there are chores at home. Quat and Trowa will be flying in from Paris on Friday, and staying for the weekend, so that's taken care of.

And there's Christmas in just three weeks; all sorts of arrangements to be made for that. A gala ball on Christmas Eve, and then taking the helicopter up to the castle on Christmas morning. For the first time, it won't be just the two of them, but quite a house party. His friends, and Relena and Dorothy, and a couple of royal cousins and some more distant relations.

He's just a tiny bit ambivalent about all of it; obviously, it was wonderful of Zechs to suggest he might like to ask his friends to spend the holiday with them, and of course he'll love having them around, but … he's used to think of the castle being _theirs_, their private place.

Lots to do, he tells himself sternly, and then snuggles back under the blankets. A short nap won't hurt and then he can take a long bath (he has no desire, ever, to _live_ here, but oh, he appreciates the gigantic bath tub) and ring for breakfast, and then actually go and do something.

He's just finished that thought, when there's a soft knock at his door. 'Mr. Chang?' The footman looks oddly uncomfortable. 'Excuse me, sir. You have visitors.'

'Oh, you needn't announce us,' a voice says airily from behind the door, and Quatre Winner steps into the room, with Duo trailing behind him, trying to look invisible. 'He knows who we are. Wufei, hello! Aren't you glad to see us?'

'Quat!' Wufei struggles to sit up, out of his nest of pillows, remembers he's naked and drags the blankets up to his chin. 'What are you doing here?'

Duo makes a face at Quat's back. 'You think this is bad? He swanned into Preventers and dragged me out of a meeting! Une nearly had a coronary.'

'That _was_ fun,' Quatre purred.

'Well, I'm sure it was but….what are you _doing_ here?' he repeats. 'I thought you were in Paris for two more days.'

'Oh, these things always drag on for far too long. It was boring,' Quatre says briskly and sits on the bed, looking around.

'Nice digs,' Duo comments. 'You're sure you don't want to move in here?'

'Of course, he doesn't,' Quat says firmly. 'It's a hideous room.'

'It's typical Sanque décor,' Wufei says a little defensively. He doesn't like it much – all the gilt and crystal and heavy, inlaid furniture – but it's Zechs' home. 'After the war, there was a committee to rebuild the staterooms exactly as they had been. There was an appeal for funds; all the people of Sanque contributed.'

'Well, the people of Sanque should have better taste. Now, you're not planning to loll about in bed all day, are you? I thought we could all go and have brunch somewhere. Or do you have plans?'

'No. Well, not exactly.'

Quat gives him a speculative look. 'Hmm. I thought not. Now, hurry up and get ready.; Duo's car is parked at the front door; we'll meet you in fifteen minutes. I've got a table booked for eleven o'clock and I don't want to miss our reservation.'

Half an hour later – Duo drives insanely fast and they don't have far to go anyway – the three of them are seated in a little French bistro near the harbour. It's all very pleasant; the maitre d' explains the day's specials and they make chit chat over a basket of warm garlic bread as they wait for their starters, but there's definitely something going on.

Duo is blathering on about nothing-in-particular, but never quite meeting his eyes and Quat has _that_ face on; the expression that strikes dread into the heart of anyone who's ever met him.

He's somehow been press-ganged into one of Quatre Raberba Winner's plans.

'All right.' Wufei says finally. 'What exactly is going on with the two of you?'

Quatre actually has the gall to look slightly hurt. 'Honestly, Wufei. I don't know why you think anything is _going on_, as you put. Why can't your two best friends take you out for a nice meal?'

'Because I know the pair of you. Just tell me.'

Quatre sighs. 'I thought we could have our food first. But since you insist, these are for you.' Quatre produces a package from under his chair and dumps it on the table, where a pile of brightly-coloured university prospectuses spill out. 'Also, I'm firing you.'

'What are you talking about?' Wufei stares at him. 'You can't do that. I've done everything perfectly.'

'Of course you have. That's not the point. The point,' he elaborates, 'is that any moderately competent computer analyst could be doing it, and you're far too brilliant not to be doing something worthy of you.'

'I'm not exactly trained for very much.'

'Oho,' Duo says gleefully. 'Bet Zechsy disagrees with that.'

'Don't be silly, Duo. Wufei, if you're not trained for something you'd enjoy, then it's high time you were,' Quat says firmly. 'I know the last few months have been complicated and all the rest of it, and you needed some breathing space just to catch up, but you're in a rut right now, and I'm sure it's very comfortable, but you're bored stiff.'

'In a rut, right. Wouldn't mind being in a rut with Zechsy myself. ' Duo sniggers and they both glare at him until he subsides into his glass of soda.

'Would you like Heero to hear what you just said?' Quatre demands. 'No? Then, be quiet. We were talking about Wufei's problem.'

'I don't have a _problem_. Quat, I know you mean well, but I'm perfectly fine. I'm not bored!'

'Not when Zechs is around,' Quat clarifies.

'Yeah,' Duo chips in. 'Look, I know you guys are crazy about each other, but it's physically not possible to have sex 24/7, and seriously, me and Quat _know_ that. I mean, it's not we haven't both tried. Heero's enhanced in every way you can imagine and then some, and Tro can, like, turn himself inside-out and do that thing with his..'

'_Duo_! Shut up!' Quat explodes, earning himself a reproving look from an elderly lady at the next table.

'I'm never telling you anything, ever again!' he mutters blushing, and Duo winks at Wufei who smiles back because it's a rare and rather charming thing, these days, to see Quatre Winner discomfited.

'We don't just…have sex,' Wufei says, blushing a little himself.

''Course you don't.' Duo leans over to pat his arm. 'But we get there's this whole whooshy honeymoon phase when nothing else in the universe matters and then it kind of wears off, just a little bit, and you realise the world's still out there, waiting for you.'

'Nicely put,' Quat approves. 'We're so happy that you've found someone, and if you were the sort of person who'd be happy just lazing around when you're not with him, then that would be fine. But you're not, 'Fei, and we all know that. You need some sort of focus in your life, something apart from Zechs.' His expression, looking at Wufei, is very gentle. 'You're allowed to have that, you know; to have something that's your own. And you always used to talk about going to university.'

'I have thought about it, but I don't really have time. I want to be able to travel when Zechs does; there's no way I'd be able to attend a full schedule of classes.'

'Then don't,' Quat tells him. 'From what I can see of my nephews and nieces, the majority of students at university don't bother attending most of their lectures anyway. Once you keep up with your assignments and coursework, that's the important thing. And I'm sure you can schedule tutorials around Zechs' trips.'

He picks one of the coloured brochures out of the pile; the photo on the front shows three young people sitting under a flowering cherry tree, with a litter of textbooks and folders around them. It looks wonderful. It had always been his dream, always unattainable. His family would never have permitted their only son, their heir, to attend university on Earth, and then there had been the war, and Preventers, and never enough time.

'Royal Sanque University,' Quat notes. 'Obviously, it's up to you, but I would recommend it. They have a highly regarded Arts programme; you could take a double major in Sanque Law and Poliyticial History, which Duo and I thought you'd find fascinating.'

'Quat.' It's an effort not to grab the brochure because if Quat and Duo chose the course, of course it will be perfect. 'Please. Just tell me you haven't already enrolled me in anything.'

'Of course not! I wouldn't do that!' Innocence personified, those big blue eyes wide and winsome. 'I may just possibly have checked admission dates and requirements.'

Duo laughs. 'Yeah, and the lecture schedules and the room locations. If you're not careful, he'll be taking the classes for you.'

Wufei carefully puts his hands under the table, not quite sure whether it's to stop himself grabbing for the pile of brochures on the table, or strangling his two closest friends. It's not, really, all that much of a surprise that they're doing this. They've both made comments before now, dropped hints. Damn.

Quatre smiles at him. 'We thought it was the most suitable course. After all, you are involved with the King of Sanque, and you're going to be helping to rule this country one day. You should know something about it, don't you think?'

'Don't say that! I'm not going to be ruling anything!'

His two closest friends look at him, expressions perfectly synchronised. They're laughing at him.

'Well!' Quatre states. 'I hope that doesn't mean that you're just…toying with the poor man's affections. I'd really expected better of you, Wufei. Does he know that you don't intend to accept his proposal, when the time comes?'

'Stop it,' Wufei says wildly, looking around. Gods, he does not want anyone overhearing this conversation. 'Of _course_ I plan to stay with him for the rest of my life. That's one thing. But I'd just be his …..consort; I wouldn't have any power.'

Duo snickers. 'You don't really believe that, do you? What, you think you're gonna spend the rest of your life visiting hospitals and kissing babies and posing for the press at fancy parties? Dream on! That's not what he wants, and I know damn well it's not what you want either.'

'You will be superb,' Quatre says, very quietly, and Wufei blushes again.

He's been trying, so hard, to take it one step at a time, because of all of it, really, is a revelation.

'This is all very new for me,' he says finally, because they'll drag it out of him anyway. Boundaries and personal space and privacy don't form part of Quat's belief system (he claims it's because of growing up with all those sisters) and he clearly has Duo on his side. 'All of it. The … the relationship, and dealing with who Zechs is, and the whole _royal_ thing. It's not easy. I just - I needed time to adjust, before I start thinking about…that. I still do.'

Quat looks at him, blue eyes soft and compassionate and fond; one of those moments which make his friends realise just why they've never actually killed him.

''Fei. I'm sure Trowa and I would have got together eventually, but we were being incredibly slow and stupid about it, and eventually some very kind friends gave us both a push in the right direction. As a result, we found each other much sooner than if we'd just been blundering around. Sometimes, when you want something, you have to just reach out and take it. It's what you did with Zechs, isn't it? That's all. You might like to think about that.'

He nods, and then reaches out to take the pile of brochures. He can browse through them, if nothing else; there are a dozen or so university prospectuses, with a slimmer brochure at the end, from an estate agent.

He hands it over to Quat; his friend had been talking about buying his own house in Sanque for a while. 'I think you gave me this by mistake.'

Quat wrinkles his nose. 'No, no mistake. I looked at the houses you forwarded to me. The ones that Zechs' assistant found for you. They're all horrible.'

'They're not that bad! They all meet the requirements Zechs and I specified.'

'That's no way to choose a house, giving a list of things to a person who doesn't even know you! You need somewhere that feels right, like home, somewhere you can imagine yourself living, and I couldn't see you living in any of them. Now, I know you very well, so I've found you the perfect place.' He hands Wufei the brochure. 'Now, are you going to tell me why _exactly_ you've been putting this off for so long? You've been talking about buying a house for three months – and yes, I know there was Christmas, and then you were both in Australia for three weeks, but you've done nothing since you got back.'

'It's the financial thing,' a new voice observes calmly. 'Right, Wufei?'

It's Trowa. Not really a surprise; he and Quatre are rarely apart for that long.

'I left a note,' Quat says; quick, defensive. He's actually squirming under the weight of his partner's gaze. 'I told you where I was going.'

'It was rather obscure,' Trowa's mouth quirks. 'An interesting start to the day though; chasing you around Europe. Especially after we'd talked about not interfering.' He lets his eyes drift around the table to Wufei. 'Well. Do you want me to take him home and have him whipped?'

'No. He's been very helpful.'

Trowa grins. 'Don't think you're getting off that lightly, Quat. Wait 'til Rashid catches up with you. 'Fei, come away from those two lunatics for a minute. I need a bit of fresh air, and there's a terrace outside.'

'So?' Trowa leans on the railing beside him and Wufei turns his head just enough to grin at him.

It's easy with Trowa; it's always been easy with Trowa.

'This whole money thing,' he observes casually. 'You know, you're an idiot if you let that stand in the way of anything.'

'I can't help it.' Because he's still holding it, he glances down at the booklet in his hand. A large farmhouse, bathed in sunlight and surrounded by trees. It's perfect, naturally, and not anything he would ever have been able to afford. 'It just seems so … unequal, if I let him buy something like this.'

'You gave up your career for him. Your privacy. Any chance of a relationship that the media doesn't treat like some sort of soap opera.' Trowa's mouth quirks. 'Believe me, I know how it feels. _That's_ inequality, 'Fei. Money's nothing compared to all of that. Let him give you a house, at least.'

Wufei pulls in a deep breath. 'You're right, yes.' This is it; this is the rest of life. Forever. Quat's right; he is allowed something for himself and, damnit, he's going to take it. An education. A house. A king. A place by his side, helping to rebuild a ruined country.

_+ 363 days_

It feels like coming home, Wufei thinks contentedly, jumping out of the helicopter after Zechs. It doesn't make a lot of sense – the castle is on the other side of the universe to the last place he really thought of as home, a place with family and people who loved him, where he'd grown up, and he's only been here five times – but it's true. Much as he loves their new house, (and he does) they haven't been living there for long enough to form any attachment to it.

The staff are assembled outside the castle to greet them, as always. Mrs. Thorwarldsen's gaze is suspiciously misty as she curtsies and the younger maids are starry eyed and staring. Oh, damn. The butler makes his usual short speech, welcoming them back and putting heavy emphasis on the how glad the staff are to see them again, and want to convey their very best wishes for a happy holiday. (The youngest chambermaid giggles at this)

Zechs' expression tightens even more, but he manages a polite, appropriate response before going inside.

Wufei stays a few minutes' longer, chatting to Mrs. Thorwaldsen, and letting everyone get a good look at his left hand. (A few faces fall when they see his ring finger is entirely unadorned but he's used to that now.) He tells the butler that yes, tea in the library would be perfect in an hour or so, and thinks it'll probably take that long for Zechs to work off steam.

He rather enjoys Zechs' rare explosions (even if they're directed at him) and this one isn't and it's been simmering for three days now so it's high time he let it out.

When he walks into their bedroom, Zechs slams the door behind him, with enough force to shake it off its hinges – if it hadn't been a massively thick slab of oak, set in a centuries' old castle that had been built to withstand sieges.

'We are not,' he snaps, 'getting engaged because of some stupid tabloid journalist.'

'Of course not,' Wufei agrees mildly. He's a lot less worked up about this whole thing. The only way, really, to put up with the media presence in their lives is to treat it as the absurd nonsense it is. Do people honestly have nothing better to do than obsess over the private lives of perfect strangers?

It's all a total farce. A week ago, a silly, low-budget German tabloid printed an article on the two of them; on Wufei particularly, accompanied by a dozen or so photographs of him taken over the past couple of months. In all of them, his left hand is in his pocket, or behind his pack, or simply not in the frame, but the accompanying text hinted obliquely at reasons why he might possibly be keeping his ring finger out of sight and, inevitably, the story was picked up by the major networks and went viral over the internet.

Zechs walks over to the window and leans out. 'You're being awfully calm about all of this.'

'Is there any point getting so worked up? We can't actually do anything.'

That's true; it's not like Zechs hasn't tried, but the original article was all innuendo and evasions, so it's impossible to sue, and they can't really sue every media outlet in the universe. 'Anyway, I don't read most of that rubbish.'

'I prefer knowing what people are saying about me.' Zechs turns around, looking lost and miserable, and Wufei shoots across the room into his arms, wishing for Nataku back, and all the world's media employees in his sights.

The really ridiculous thing is that he doesn't particularly care on his own account; he doesn't read any of that nonsense (although Duo tells him some of the choicer speculation) but he hates the effect it has on Zechs, and Zechs is mostly upset that it's going to upset Wufei.

'You know,' he says quietly, snuggling as close as possible, 'they could be saying an awful lot worse about us than that we're in love and secretly engaged.'

'I suppose,' Zechs mutters reluctantly, dropping a kiss on his forehead, and then kissing him properly.

'They could,' Wufei persists. 'Do you think we can just forget about all that while we're here, and just enjoy the holiday? Please?'

It's not just a holiday; it's their anniversary, almost, and they've got seven days all to themselves. Wufei's left his course-books and a half-finished assignment at home, and Zechs is only to be contacted in the event of a national emergency.

'Of course we can.' Zechs smiles at him. 'You're absolutely right. As always. Would you like to go for a walk before it gets dark? I feel I've been cooped up all day.'

Twenty minutes later, they're strolling around the lake, with swallows swooping around them. It's perfect.

'So quiet, this time,' Zechs remarks, and Wufei laughs.

They haven't been back since Christmas – too much going on with buying the house, and Wufei starting his university course, and various official engagements – and they'd had a houseful of guests. It had been lovely, of course, having all his friends to stay in his favourite place, and they'd loved it, but he likes it better like this.

Just the two of them.

'Happy?' Zechs tangles their fingers together,

'Oh, yes. You can't imagine how much.'

'Hmm. I can, possibly.'

'Even without being secretly engaged to me?' Wufei teases because, honestly, they need to start laughing about this whole farce.

'Don't you start.' Zechs squeezes his hand. 'Or you might find yourself taking an unexpected swim and I imagine the water is very cold, this early in the year. You know you're about the only person who hasn't been talking about engagements, secret or otherwise. Even Duo and Quatre cornered me at our housewarming party and started dropping very heavy hints about how I need to make an honest man of you. Threats, almost, some of them.'

'Well, my friends are insane,' Wufei says matter-of-factly. 'You know that. And Duo just wants a big party. It's far worse for me; I have the entire universe trying to see whether or not I'm wearing a ring.'

'Would you? Zechs asks suddenly. 'Want to wear a ring? Hypothetically?'

'Not really. It was never a part of L5 culture; not even for women. Do you mind? You weren't planning on giving me some huge diamond?'

Zechs shakes his head. 'Oh, it would have been a ruby. Far more suitable for your colouring. But no, I don't mind in the least. It will save the royal treasury a large amount of money.'

'Oh, that's just delightful. Always thinking of the money.' Wufei leans closer and Zechs lets his hand drop, in favour of sliding an arm around his waist.

'Practical, treasure. You know, I've always liked the thought of winter weddings.

His heart quickens, just a little, and then he smiles. 'Sleigh bells?'

Zechs looks positively charmed. 'You remembered.'

'Of course I did.' It had been a conversation they'd had over Christmas, late one night, over hot chocolate with run and mince pies, when the others were all in bed. Zechs telling him about his memories of Christmas as a child, when the royal family had gone to church in a horse-drawn sleigh, bells jangling. 'I'd like that. You know. Hypothetically. One day.'

'One day,' Zechs echoes softly, and then stops, pulling Wufei into a close hug. 'Yes?'

'Yes. Very much so.'

It should feel – different, surely. Momentous. It's a proposal, life-changing. Except his life already changed, almost twelve months ago. Earlier, if he thinks about it, when he first saw Zechs, and this just feels natural and inevitable.

They just smile at each other after that.

'It's going to be insane,' Wufei says finally, shaking his head at the thought of it.

'It's too late now.' Zechs informs him, quite revoltingly smug. 'You've said yes. I could sue you for breach of promise if you tried to back out.'

'I suppose I'm stuck then.'

'Poor you.' Zechs' hands settle on either side of his face, smoothing wind-blown strands of hair behind his ears, and there is nothing in his face but pure, unclouded joy. 'Ridiculously forward colonial, going around knocking on innocent people's doors in the middle of the night. Of course there were going to be consequences. Didn't you think of that?'

'I wasn't thinking. You know that. It was about time I did something without thinking about it.'

Zechs folds him closer. 'I am so very glad you did. I am going to adore and cherish and treasure you for the rest of our lives, Chang Wufei. Always.'

'Oh, yes,' Wufei breathes. 'Always.'


End file.
